Making Memories of Us
by mabelreid
Summary: Sequel to "Someone to Watch over Me." Spencer and Chriscelia are engaged, but that doesn't mean their story is at an end. There are many obstacles to a happy ending, but also joy and wonder in store for two people who met by chance and who love without reservation.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

 _ **A/n this story picks up right after "Someone to Watch Over Me," and about three weeks before the finale of season twelve. Obviously, I'm skipping the prison time for Reid, but have other surprises planned. I hope you will enjoy the next installment of**_ Chriscelia _ **and Spencer. Thank you for reading and thank you to my wonderful Beta REIDFANATIC, for all her hard work and suggestions.** _

"So, what did you think of Henry and Michael," Spencer asked as they drove through a golden spring afternoon that highlighted the green of the grass and the multitudes of flowers beginning to poke their heads from the fertile and nourishing earth.

"I love them, as you knew I would," Chriscelia said. "They're cute, and smart, and sweet and kind, just like their godfather, so what's not to love."

She noticed a bit of pink creep up Spencer's cheeks and grinned. "They're not my children, Chriscelia. Those traits come from JJ and Will."

"I disagree, to a certain extent because JJ and Will are lovely people, but you've had a tremendous influence on them, particularly Henry because he's the oldest. Anyone with eyes can see that he adores you and wants to emulate you. Boys his age want to be like the significant male in their lives, and Henry has two significant males in his life."

"Let's say you're right; he also has Rossi, Hotch, and Morgan."

"Yes, and I'm sure he loves them, but you're his godfather."

Spencer didn't comment for a while. He seemed completely intent on the road toward Chriscelia's apartment building.

"Chriscelia," Spencer finally said, after several minutes of silence.

"Yes," she managed to say without betraying the sudden chill in her heart.

"I want to talk to you. May I come up for a while?"

"You don't have to ask, Spencer. Of course, you can," she replied.

"Thanks."

She stared out at the windows of the homes of strangers they passed. Were the inhabitants eating a meal, or having a serious conversation, or were they laughing, fighting, making love, or simply existing.

"We're here," Spencer said.

"Oh, right."

Five minutes later she'd made coffee, and they were sitting on her sofa with their shoes kicked off. "So," she asked, "What did you want to talk about, Spencer."

"Hey," he rubbed her arm lightly. "I didn't mean to scare you. I was just thinking about Henry and Michael, and I realized that we haven't talked about something extremely important to our future together."

"What?"

"Children. Do you want to have children with me?"

She rocked back in her seat because this was the last thing she expected him to ask, although it was logical that they'd talk about it at some point.

"Honestly, I hadn't thought that much about it, Spencer."

"What do you think?"

His eyes watched her intently and with something in their depths that frightened and excited her at the same time. "Yes, I do want to have your baby, Spencer."

His eyes lit up like chocolate stars, and she grinned at his obvious happiness with her answer. "I'm sorry I sprung this on you, as I could tell I freaked you out a little in the car, but I wanted to talk to you about it before we said, "I do."

"Spencer, you don't have to explain. You'll make a _wonderful_ father."

"I hope so. I don't want to be like my dad."

"You won't be, babe. I can tell from how you treat Michael and Henry. They love you dearly, and that's a result of mad skills." She said with a smirk.

"Mad skills," Spencer said as he eyebrows went up.

"Yes," Chriscelia said. "You know what I mean."

"I do," he said.

They sat for a minute studying each other in contented silence. "What are you thinking," Spencer asked.

"I – um, I wondered when you want to start trying because I'm not sure I can handle the stress of trying to get pregnant, a wedding, and the first draft of my new book at the same time."

Spencer cupped her cheek with one hand. "Right now, we're just talking about it, okay. There's no need to rush into anything. In fact, I think it's better that we wait and get settled into our new dynamic. After all, we haven't decided on a date yet."

"You're right," she said. "We're getting ahead of ourselves."

"Yes, and I'm sorry if I caused you more worry."

She touched the hand that cupped her cheeks. "I know that, Spencer. We'll figure it out."

He smiled, and her world returned to solid ground. "So," she said. "When _are_ we getting married?"

Spencer laughed. "All right, let's talk it out, together. When do you want to get married?"

"I have been thinking about it," Chriscelia said, and he smirked. "Don't start, smart guy," she scolded, and Spencer laughed.

" _Please_ , go on," he directed.

"I think we should get married in October, that is if you can wait that long, " she teased.

"I'm fine with that, but may I ask why?"

"Because it's the middle of April, so it's too soon to plan for June, and I don't want to wait another fifteen months to become Mrs. Dr. Spencer Reid."

"Thanks, honey," he said, sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't pick June anyway because it's a complete cliché. I don't like summer because of the heat, and I love fall. Also, I know you love Halloween, just like me, so let's plan for fall and perhaps a spooky Halloween theme."

"Are you sure that's what you want," he asked.

"Yes, I'm sure that's what I want, but it's not just me in this marriage. Are you sure it's what you want?"

"I'm completely sure," Spencer said and kissed her. "Your plan sounds like fun."

"Watch it," she warned. "You may be sorry you agreed to it."

Spencer laughed. "I doubt it. I know you won't go overboard."

"I only asked that you wear something that resembles a tuxedo."

"Why wouldn't I," Spencer asked, confused.

"Don't play innocent with me, mister. I know you want to dress up as Dr. Who, or a Jedi Knight."

"Not for my wedding," he protested. "Give me some credit."

She grinned at him. "Me thinks thou doth protest too much," she teased.

"I promise I will wear the traditional wedding garb."

Chriscelia chuckled at his serious tone. "Then all we have to do is find a venue, hire a caterer, choose a florist, pick the music, write out a guest list, find rings –"

Spencer put a hand over her mouth. "I get it, we're in for a mountain of work, but we have one thing others don't have."

"Pray tell, what is that," Chriscelia wondered.

"We have each other."

She sighed and leaned in to kiss him. "Sometimes I wonder if you're too good to be true if you're some alien life form sent here to observe the puny humans and extract our weaknesses, and one day you'll pack up and transport out or something."

Reid laughed so hard he nearly fell off the sofa. "No, I'm not an alien life form. I'm human, just like you."

"Good, because I don't want to have to fight an alien girlfriend or wife." She waggled her eyebrows, and he sighed in mock exasperation.

"Chriscelia, your writer's imagination is showing."

She winked at him and shook her head. "I'm just teasing."

"I know, and I love you for it because you keep me laughing."

"Thank you, kind sir."

"But if I were an alien, you'd still love me, right," he said and jumped away when she lunged at him.

"I'm going to _get_ you for that, Spencer Reid," she growled.

"All right, but be gentle."

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Reid found Chriscelia in the living room, lying on the couch in an old pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt. Her eyes were closed, and she smiled in a way that made his heart trip, and his head swim, but in a wonderful way.

"Hey," he said softly and leaned over the back of the couch.

Her eyes popped open, and she reached up a hand to touch his fingers. "Hello."

"Why're you out here, it's late?"

"Couldn't sleep." She pushed to a sitting position and patted the sofa. "Come sit with me; I want to talk to you."

"Now, _you're_ scaring me," he said, but smiled.

"It's nothing serious, well that's not true. I couldn't sleep because after we had made love, I started thinking about our talk and having a baby."

His forehead crinkled, "I thought we decided –"

"Don't panic, my love. I'm very sure we didn't just make a baby, after all, I am on the pill as you know and you've insisted on a backup condom since our first time. We've always been careful."

"Then I don't understand."

"I couldn't stop imagining what our child will be like, what she'll look like, smell like, how intelligent will she be, all the things you wonder about your baby, or so I'm told."

"She," Reid said teasingly. "You know something I don't," he wanted to know.

"Of course not, and if we have a boy, I will be over the moon because I want him to look like you and have your amazing mind."

"I think we should have a girl that looks like her mother and has _your_ amazing mind and sense of humor."

"Twins," Chriscelia said. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

"No," Reid laughed. "I'm not suggesting multiples."

"I'm glad you said that because I'm hoping for one at a time, although if it happens, then we will deal with it."

"Yes, we will."

They sat together for a long time until Spencer said. "What else are you thinking?"

She smirked at him. "Can't fool you."

He simply stared at her.

"I was thinking about Henry, Michael, and Hank. I want to make them part of the wedding."

"In what capacity. Hank's too young to be a ring bearer."

"I thought Henry could be the ring bearer and we make Hank and Michael honorary ushers. Mostly, they'd be there in cute little suits to be adorable and make people smile."

"Have I told you how much I love you," Spencer said and kissed her.

"Yes, but a girl can never hear it too much, especially from a man like you, Spencer Reid.

"Good," he said. "Now, what's the date for our wedding."

"Why are you asking me?"

"Well, you said Halloween and –"

"No, I said a spooky theme for the ceremony was a possibility. Halloween is on a Tuesday. I don't want to get married on a Tuesday."

"Why not," Spencer wondered.

"Because more people can attend on the weekend and can let loose if they don't have to work the next day."

"You're scaring me again," he teased.

She smacked his arm. "I just mean that we can have a great party on the weekend."

"Okay, so what about the 28th?"

"That's fine with me."

"Two decisions down, a hundred more to go," he laughed.

"I'm going to start researching venues in the morning. We have to move fast."

"If you say so."

"What about the team? JJ knows, but I think we should tell them soon."

"Don't worry, I spoke to JJ, and she won't say anything until we're ready to make the announcement."

"Good, because I think we should come up with some way to make the announcement in a fun way."

"I have an idea about that."

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Spencer closed the last file from his inbox and perched it on the top of his dangerously teetering stack in the outbox. He picked up his coffee mug and discovered it was depressingly empty.

His phone chirped, and a text from Chriscelia said. _You coming home for dinner?_

 _Yes._

 _Kay, see you at 7._

 _Love you._

She sent back a smiley face and a red heart that made him laugh.

"Ladies, I think we have a bit of a mystery on our hands," said Tara.

Spencer glanced up to see Garcia, Tara, and Emily at his left.

"I thought all of you left."

"I was on my way out when Tara stopped me to ask if I wanted to get a drink. We were looking for JJ when we ran into Emily and then heard you laugh," Garcia said.

"Yeah, I can't remember the last time I heard you laugh at work," Tara added.

"We're worried about you," Emily said.

"Yeah, sweet cheeks, we wondered if everything was okay."

"Thus the mystery," Tara said.

"There's no mystery. I found certain stimuli amusing, so I laughed."

"A text from a certain writer, perhaps," Emily inquired with a grin.

"Maybe, but I believe it's none of your business."

"Oh," Garcia cooed and winked at him. "Is she _sexting_ you, gorgeous gray matter?"

"No!" Spencer nearly shouted.

"All right ladies let's not tease him," Emily cut in. "He's entitled to privacy."

"Thank you, Emily."

"Would you like to join us for a drink?"

"And give you a chance to grill me, I don't think so."

"We wouldn't do that," Tara said innocently. "We respect your privacy."

Reid simply put aside his empty coffee mug and grabbed his bag. "I need to speak to Rossi before I leave. If you will excuse me, ladies."

"Tell Chriscelia we said hello," Garcia said.

Reid found Rossi in his office. "Hey, do you mind if we talk for a minute."

"Sure, kid, what's up?"

"I want to tell you something, and I have a request. I have to ask you to keep this to yourself for a while."

Rossi's eyebrows went up. "Okay, what's going on."

Reid shut the door to his friend's office. "I asked Chriscelia to marry me."

"That's wonderful, my boy."

Rossi rose and embraced Reid with two loud kisses to his cheeks. "You are going to make a wonderful husband."

"Thanks. I'm a bit nervous."

"Of course you are. Just don't blow it."

"I won't."

"What else is on your mind?"

"I want to tell the rest of the team, but I'm not sure how. I was hoping that you'd be willing to host an engagement party for us, maybe tell the team it's for something else."

Rossi winked at him. "I'd be honored. I'm sure I can find the perfect excuse."

"Thank you," Reid said, relieved. "Um, do you mind if I hang out here for a few minutes until I'm sure the ladies are gone."

"Giving you the third degree, are they."

"Yeah, and I'm afraid they'll trick me into spilling my guts. JJ already knows," he added.

"Well, then we better not put off the party. Let's make it for next weekend."

"Thank you, Dave. We truly appreciate it."

"It's my pleasure, Spencer. I couldn't be prouder of you."

"Sometimes I can't believe I've arrived at this place in my life. I'm so grateful I bumped into her that day in the airport. I don't want to think what my life would be like without her."

"Then your marriage will succeed."

"How do you know?"

"Because you already learned the first lesson, gratitude for the woman you love. You keep showing it, and you'll be fine."

Reid stood. "I suppose I better go. Chriscelia's cooking for me."

"Go, my young friend."

"Thanks again, Dave."

Rossi watched his friend leave and sat back in his chair. If only he had the chance to do it all over again. No, he shook his head. It was too late for him, but for Spencer, the best time of his life was just beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

 ** _A/n to all my loyal reader, thank you for your support of this story. Please enjoy chapter 2_**

Chriscelia glanced up, distractedly, when the door to her apartment opened, and Spencer stepped through. "Hey," he greeted and dropped his messenger bag on the entryway table.

"Hi," she said when he bent to kiss her.

"What's all this?"

Reid's hand swept the air above her coffee table and the stacks of printed paper in several different piles.

"I was hoping you'd go through these and give me your opinion. I can't decide."

She yanked off her eyeglasses and rubbed her eyes. "I'll be right back."

Spencer watched her leave the room; then he turned his attention to the piles of paper on the coffee table. He picked up the first pile and scanned through it, thoughtfully.

"Sorry, didn't mean to leave you in here," Chriscelia took a seat next to him and kissed his cheek. "Hi, babe."

Spencer smiled at her. "It's okay. I'm more worried about you." He wiped away some liquid from her cheeks, "What's wrong?"

"Not tears," she said. "I needed some eye drops. My eyes are tired, and my nose bridge hurt from those damn glasses. I hate them, and I think I wanna explore laser surgery."

"You sure you want to consider that now."

"Why, you don't think I should do it. What if I want to get rid of these?" She snatched up the glasses and put them on. "I hate them. I've had to wear glasses since I was nine."

"No, I don't think you should continue to wear them if you don't want to but I think you're using them as an excuse not to deal with this," his hands indicated the piles of paper on the table.

"I can't deal with Spencer the Profiler," she shot back. "Can you please be supportive?"

"I _am_ ," he said and color rose in his cheeks. "I just thought you might not want to take on surgery on top of planning a wedding and writing your book. I don't want you to be so stressed."

Chriscelia's shoulders slumped, and she began to cry. Reid pulled her into his arms, "I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. "I shouldn't have – "

"No," she interrupted. "You don't need to apologize. I'm the one that's a basket case. "If I can't handle researching a venue then how can I talk about laser eye surgery. What's wrong with me?"

She pulled away from him, grabbed for a carton of tissues on the end table and blew her nose. "I'm fine. I'll return to sanity now."

"Celia," Reid shook his head. "You're trying to do so much. I love that you take charge and that you're so excited about the wedding, but I'm _here_ too. Let me help you."

"I know, and I love you so much. You must regret asking me to marry you now that I've lost my mind over our wedding."

"Never," Spencer declared. "Remember it's in good and bad times, right."

"You better believe it."

"I do," he said, and they laughed.

She curled into his side. "I truly am sorry. The last thing you need is to come home to a hysterical fiancé."

"Nonsense! I'm fine because you're here. I never realized how lonely I was before I met you. I love coming here or opening _my_ door to find you _there_. You make me believe that life holds more than the ugliness I'm forced to confront daily."

She kissed him. "You truly are too good to be true."

Reid grinned at her. "May I continue to look through your research?"

"Okay, this stack is my definite yes stack. I like the venue, the date we want is available, and the price is right." She indicated the pile he'd already read. "This pile is the venues I like, but they're too pricey, and most of them are booked a year in advance. This stack is my reject pile, and this pile is the "maybe" pile for various reasons."

"Everything is in alphabetic order," Reid said as he flipped rapidly through each pile. "This is better organized than anything I could manage."

Chriscelia rolled her eyes. "I highly doubt that. You have a fully organized filing system in your head and remember, I've seen your bookcases."

"True, but your incredibly organized and a first-rate researcher. You've collected a vast selection in short time; I'm impressed."

"Thanks. All the practice I have from researching books is paying off in a big way."

Spencer put aside the printouts. "Why don't we take a walk. The weather's nice, and I think you need a break."

"All right, I guess it won't kill me to set this aside for a few hours."

"Come on," he pulled her to her feet. "Let's get some exercise, then a meal and then we'll sit down and divide the wedding responsibilities evenly."

Chriscelia frowned. "Okay, but eloping sounds better and better."

"I know you don't mean that."

Chriscelia sighed and grabbed his hand. "You're right, I _hate_ it, but you're right."

"Let's go," he tugged on her hand. "We'll enjoy the fresh air and walk to the park. I'll buy you a hotdog from the "Gourmet Dogs," food truck.

"You'll ruin my diet," she complained. "I want to look fabulous on my wedding day."

"You'll always be beautiful no matter what you wear or how thin you are," he said.

"I wish I had your confidence."

Reid laughed. "I'm hardly a good example of confidence," he said as he led her out of the apartment.

"That's _so_ not true, but we'll discuss it later."

"Yes, we will," he promised her.

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The walk to the park took them through the cool air that smelled of new, green things stretching up from the earth to take in the nourishment of the sun's rays. "Smell that," Chriscelia said. "You can't bottle that."

Reid drew in a breath. "I love the smell of early spring. Only one thing is better than this."

Chriscelia's eyebrows drew together in a question. "What?"

He gently tugged her close, kissed her near the lobe of her ear and whispered. "You, after a long day chasing psychos. You always smell like vanilla and spice."

"Get away," she laughed and pushed him from her. "We're in public."

"I thought affianced couples were supposed to forget the world and engage in gratuitous displays of PDA."

"PDA?" Chriscelia asked. "Seriously, you're using internet slang. Who _are_ you and what have you done with my fiancé?"

"Ha," he laughed. "I only mean that we're allowed to break some societal norms."

She wiggled her eyebrows at him. "Keep using million dollar words and," she pulled him close again. "You might get a chance to-" she whispered the end of her comments in his ear.

"You're terrible, and I love it," he said as his face went adorably pink in the cheeks.

They joined the line at the popular food truck and waited for their turn to order one of the popular gourmet hot dogs that attracted crowds all day long. "Senorita," exclaimed Joaquin Hernandez, owner, and chef of "Gourmet Dogs." "I'm am so happy to see my favorite customer," he said in heavily accented Spanish.

"Hey, Joaquin."

"I have seen you before," he pointed a hot dog in a bun at Reid. "But, I have not seen you together."

"This is my fiancé, Dr. Spencer Reid."

"Oh, a doctor, and you are getting married. Everyone, my favorite customer is getting married," he announced to his staff which consisted of his wife, Sophia, and their daughter, Carmen. Several of the patrons overheard his enthusiastic announcement and congratulated them.

"For you, anything you would like is gratis."

"No, we can't –"

"No!" Joaquin said, and his black eyes flared beneath his heavy eyebrows. "It is my pleasure. I want to toast to your matrimonio, yes."

"Then we accept," Reid said.

"Bueno, and you Senor, you will take care of my best customer, yes."

Reid nodded. "Yes, sir."

Chriscelia grinned at Reid, and he smirked back. "You heard the man, we should order."

They ordered their hot dogs, fries, and soft drinks. Reid found them a bench, and they sat to enjoy their selections at a spot overlooking an empty playground. Most of the kids were inside with homework, but soon they'd crowd into the park every day. This quiet wouldn't last for long.

"He's a character," Reid said.

"Yes, but he's nice. His first question whenever I buy a hot dog is when am I getting married."

"Oh, that's why you made a point of introducing me as your fiancé."

"Yeah, he knows I'm a writer, but he says that no one should go through life alone."

"I think he's a wise man."

They began to eat, and Reid said. "This is delicious." He took a large bite of his Nacho dog with spicy chipotle salsa and guacamole.

"I love his version of a corn dog," she bit into the hot dog topped with corn, cheese, caramelized onions, and bacon.

"These twice-fried French fries are pretty tasty," Reid enthused, and Chriscelia laughed.

"I'm a little stunned that you've ordered from this truck, given you're a bit germ-phobic."

"I _am_ not," Reid said. "I've learned that I use that as an excuse to avoid human contact, but since I met you, and since I became a godfather, I'm rethinking that stance."

"Good, because I love you just the way you are."

"Do you know what is amazing?"

"No," Chriscelia wiped some salsa from her hands with the napkins Reid had snagged for them. "I feel the same way about you."

"Even with my wedding mood swings?"

"Yep," he said, and they grinned at each other. "Although I hope you'll keep that to a minimum."

Chriscelia narrowed her eyes at him. "Watch _it_ , lover boy."

Reid choked and laughed at the same time. He chewed laboriously and swallowed hard. "I guess that's what I get for trying to talk with food in my mouth."

"I think it's punishment for the mood swings remark."

Reid took a hit from his soda and sighed. "Is this what I'm in for, fifty years of sarcastic remarks and bad jokes."

"Yes," Chriscelia said resolutely. "You're the _luckiest_ son of a gun on the face of the earth."

Reid shook his head. "And you think you lack in confidence. I wonder where you got _that_ idea."

"Keep it up, and I might rethink my answer to your proposal."

"No, you won't," Reid said confidently. "You're the luckiest woman on earth, and you _know_ it."

"Yes, I do. Thank you for dragging me out here," Chriscelia said. "I feel so much better."

"You're welcome."

After a few moments of silence and enjoyment of the cool air of the park filled with the smell of food and the faint perfume of flowers, Reid said, "I'd like to make a suggestion."

"About the wedding," Chriscelia asked after finished the last of her hot dog.

"No, I was thinking about what you said about laser eye surgery. Why don't you research getting contacts? You know I wear them alongside glasses."

"I thought about it, but I don't know if I can put something in my eye."

Reid nodded slowly. "I was squeamish about sticking a finger in my eye every day, but, I like a complete field of vision instead of turning my head to see the world."

Chriscelia sipped at her soda. "Maybe I will look into it," she said.

"Only for you, don't do it for me. As I said, I love you no matter what," Spencer said and took one of her hands to hold.

"I 'll think about it."

"I think we should go for another walk, and burn some calories."

She frowned up at him. 'Why do you have to be sensible?"

He laughed. "Come on, Celia. We'll take a couple of laps around the park and enjoy the fresh air, and then we'll go back and face the realities of a wedding."

"I'll agree only because you're right and I want to enjoy spending time with you outside of all the practicalities we have to face every day."

"Good," he pulled her to her feet. "Lets' go."

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"You're awfully quiet," Reid said. "You okay?"

"Mark called this morning."

"What did he say?" Reid inquired as he drove toward Rossi's home.

"He said he thinks he'll be able to take time off to come to the wedding, but Karen's not sure if she'll be able to take time off work."

"Is that why you're upset."

"Can't fool you," she sighed and looked out the window at the people on the street, going about their daily lives.

"What did he say this time?"

"I offered to buy plane tickets for him. He said he didn't need my money and can handle the tickets on his own. I was just trying to be helpful, Spencer."

"I know you were, but sometimes the male ego is a fragile thing."

"Oh, don't give me that! He's jealous! He's been this way since my second book hit big and he realized that I never have to work for someone else again. He's ticked because he's stuck in the nine to five grind every day."

"What do you want to do. It's your wedding, your day. You should be happy."

"If you're asking me if I regret inviting my brother, yes, I do. He's an envious fool, who doesn't understand that writing is difficult, that it takes total dedication. You know what he said once?"

Spencer opened his mouth, but Chriscelia continued as if she didn't notice. "He said, "Chrissy, writing's not a real job. You're just making up stories, how hard can that be." He doesn't understand it's a _huge_ commitment and hard work. I love it, or I wouldn't go through the process every day."

"Celia, all I'm saying is that it's up to you who you invite. Some would say that you should forgive because it's your wedding, but I'm not going to say that to you. I, better than anyone, know how it feels to have family drama you want to avoid."

"I'm sure Mark will expect me to ask him to walk me down the aisle in place of my dad, but I don't want to, Spencer. Is that so wrong?"

They pulled up to Rossi's home. Reid parked, shut off the engine and turned to his finance." Celia, you know I will support whatever you decide. I want you to be happy."

"Thank you, babe." Chriscelia leaned in to kiss him. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

"I know you'll decide to do what's best for you," he touched her nose with one long finger, and she laughed. "Come on, let's get inside before the others begin to arrive."

"Before we do," she laid a hand on his arm. "Have you told your father, and do you want to invite him?"

She almost laughed at the consternation in his eyes, and the way his forehead furrowed. "Honestly, I haven't thought about it. Talk about conflicting feelings about family."

"I support you, _too_ , honey. I know you've worked hard to resolve your issues with William, so I think you should call and invite him to the wedding."

He tugged her close for a hug and sighed. "I do want him to come see us married. I'll call him in the morning."

She kissed him, "Let's go inside. We can't be late for our party. How gauche would that be?"

Spencer pulled back and chuckled. "You have such a unique way with words."

"Of course, I'm a writer, after all."

"I remember."

She tugged on his tie. "Come on, let's go."


	3. Chapter 3

"Welcome," Rossi greeted Chriscelia and Spencer with kisses to their cheeks and hearty embraces. He wore jeans, and a gray pullover with the arms pushed to the elbow.

"Thank you for hosting this party for us," Chriscelia said.

"Yeah, thanks, Dave."

"You're welcome. I'm honored you asked me."

"It was all this guy's idea, but I'm glad he asked," Chriscelia tilted her head in Reid's direction.

"Me too. Why don't we go out back?"

Rossi led them through the house and to the backyard. Spencer recognized the delicious smell of Rossi's homemade Carbonara, among other odors wafting through the house.

"It smells like your impromptu cooking class six years ago."

Rossi winked at him. "I thought I'd have the same menu because I want to make new and positive memories for the team."

"Thanks, Dave."

The cool April air wafted lazily through white lights strung into the trees when they exited to the backyard. Three large tables set in a semicircle with gold tablecloths and vases with blood red roses. Spring flowers garlanded the edges of the yard and over the doorway to his house. Spencer caught the scent of the flowers mixed with freshly cut grass and a bit of Chriscelia's perfume and Rossi's aftershave.

Rossi looked at his watch. "I'm sure the rest of the team will show up soon. Why don't you two stay out here while I play host? Help yourselves to the antipasti on the bar."

"This is so beautiful," Chriscelia said as she turned circles, taking in all the decorations.

"I like the music."

Chriscelia listened, then smiled. "Ella Fitzgerald."

"Dance with me."

"Now, the others will be here any minute."

"I don't care."

She took his outstretched hand, and he tugged her in close. She lay her head on his chest and heard the beat of his heart as they moved slowly around the tables.

There's a saying old, says that love is blind  
Still, we're often told, "seek, and ye shall find"  
So I'm going to seek a certain lad I've had in mind.

Looking everywhere, haven't found him yet  
He's the big affair I cannot forget  
Only man I ever think of with regret

I'd like to add his initial to my monogram  
Tell me, where is the shepherd for this lost lamb?

"I found my, "certain lad," Chriscelia said into his chest.

"I found my, "certain woman," Spencer responded and twirled her around.

Chriscelia laughed and let her head fall back. The white lights spun around her, and she thought of playing with sparklers as a child on the 4th of July. Yes, there should be fireworks exploding around them like a couple in an old-time movie.

There's a somebody I'm longin' to see  
I hope that he turns out to be  
Someone who'll watch over me

I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood  
I know I could, always be good  
To one who'll watch over me

Although he may not be the man some  
Girls think of as handsome  
To my heart, he carries the key

Won't you tell him please to put on some speed  
Follow my lead, oh, how I need  
Someone to watch over me

Won't you tell him please to put on some speed  
Follow my lead, oh, how I need  
Someone to watch over me

Someone to watch over me.

Spencer dipped her then kissed her as she laughed with delight. "Hey," someone said from behind them. "This isn't the prom."

They broke apart to see JJ, Will and Garcia and Sam. Luke, Tara, and Stephen and Monica followed the LaMontagnes, and Emily followed them with Morgan and Savannah.

"Hi," Spencer squeaked.

"Hello," Chriscelia greeted them and tried to ignore the heat of a blush on her face.

"You're nauseatingly cute together," Emily judged, and the others nodded.

"Yeah, I can't leave you alone for five minutes," Rossi said as he reentered the backyard.

"Sorry," Spencer said, but he couldn't stop smiling.

"Alright, what is happening," Stephen said. "Somethings different about you, Spencer."

"Yeah," Emily said. "I noticed it too. You've had a new light in your eyes for the last couple of weeks."

"That's why you're here," Rossi said.

"What's going on, pretty boy?"

"Chriscelia and I are getting married."

"Now that is a rock," Tara said surveying Chriscelia's left hand. "I approve."

"Oh, my boy has excellent taste," Garcia admired Chriscelia's ring with bright eyes.

Emily took Chriscelia's hand and studied the princess cut one carat solitaire diamond. "Simple, yet beautiful, like you."

"Thank you, Emily."

"Hey," Morgan swept Spencer into a hug. "You did good, my man. Chriscelia's a good woman, and beautiful to boot."

"She's the best thing in my life."

"I know what you mean, little brother."

"How's Hank?"

"He's doing good. He's getting a bit steadier on his feet. Sarah's here for a visit. She's looking after him. She said to tell you hello. I think she's a little jealous of Chriscelia. She's had a bit of a crush on you since you were in Chicago ten years ago."

"Really?"

"Sure, why not?"

"I had no idea."

"No idea about what," Luke asked.

"Nothing important."

Luke's eyebrows went up, but he changed the subject. "Congratulations, Spencer. You're a lucky man."

"Yes, I am."

Tara pulled Spencer into a hug. "You did well." She said and winked at him. "She's amazing."

"I know, and I'm happier than I thought possible."

"Everyone," Rossi interrupted their congratulations and the admiring of Chriscelia's ring. "Dinner is served."

Stephen pulled Reid aside as the others made their way to the tables. "Spencer, we haven't had a chance to speak since you came back from Vegas. I wanted you to know how sorry I am that you lost your mother. JJ and Morgan speak highly of her. I gather she helped on more than one case."

"Yes, she did."

"Then she must have been an exceptional woman."

"She was, thank you for saying so."

"Hey, you two, stop yacking and get over here," Chriscelia hollered as the other's laughed.

"You heard the lady," Stephen said.

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"That was some spread," Tara said. "You outdid yourself, Dave."

"I concur," Spencer said.

"Agreed," Emily said. "Thank you."

"You're all welcome. You know me, I love to cook."

JJ and Will, Garcia, and Sam and the Morgan's got up to dance. Rossi asked Tara, but Spencer and Chriscelia stayed at their table with Stephen, Monica, and Alvez.

"What a perfect night," Monica said.

"Yeah, it's beautiful," Luke said.

"Have you decided on a date," Monica asked.

Spencer and Chriscelia looked at each other and smirked. "We have."

"Hm," Luke said. "I take it, you decided on a non-traditional date."

"Late October, the 28th to be exact."

Stephen was about to comment when JJ came over to the table. "Spence, you want to dance with me?"

"Sure."

"Keep your hands to yourself," Chriscelia ordered.

"Celia," Spencer squeaked, mortified.

"I wasn't talking to you," she winked at JJ.

"Well, I will do my best. He is pretty cute."

"You guys," Spencer complained as his cheeks went pink.

"Why don't we dance?" Luke asked Chriscelia. "Then you can keep an eye on them."

"Oh, you guys are not funny," Spencer said, sourly and they all laughed.

Morgan and Garcia joined them on the dance floor and Chriscelia watched Luke watching them dance together. "So, what's going on between you and Penelope. The last I heard, she only marginally tolerates you."

"I'm not sure. I try to be nice, but she insists on calling me, newbie. Do you know that she once said she'd take the stairs when we met in the elevator? I'm no Derek Morgan, I know that, but you'd think she might be a little nicer."

"I think a woman like Penelope Garcia doesn't give her loyalties lightly to anyone. You might have to work for it."

"I just want us to be friends, that's all."

"Good luck."

At the end of the song, she found Spencer, and they sat out the next dance. Luke danced with Tara and Sam with Emily. Penelope and Morgan were sitting at another table with Rossi and Savannah. Will and JJ danced near Stephen and Monica.

"Why are you smiling?"

Chriscelia shrugged. "I'm happy. I'm engaged to a hot, sweet, gentle guy who loves me. Therefore, I smile."

"There's more to it than that," Spencer said.

"It's nothing. I just think it's funny how Penelope treats Luke. They're hopeless."

"Well, I think she finds it hard to accept that Luke took Morgan's place on the team. They're very close, and she doesn't want to get hurt that way again."

"Are you sure, because I think there's more to it than that."

Spencer studied his fiancé, then shook his head. "You're way off on that, Celia."

"You sure, because sometimes an outsider can see what others can't," she said with authority.

"Then why is Garcia so intolerant of him."

"There's a fine line between love and hate."

Spencer chuckled, "I still think you're way off."

"You could be right. Perhaps it's just that I'm so happy, I want everyone to be happy."

"Me too," Spencer said and took her hand. He grinned at the sensation of her engagement ring on his fingers. It felt like it belonged there, just as she belonged in his arms and his heart.

"Let's dance," she said and tugged him out of his chair.

"They're a perfect couple," Tara said to Stephen as she returned to the table.

"Yes, they are."

"Remember when we were engaged," Monica asked Stephen, and he nodded. "I thought I was the luckiest man in the world, and now I know I was right." He kissed her cheek, and she smiled. "You've always been a flatterer, Stephen."

"I mean it."

Garcia was the next to grab Reid for a dance. "Sorry," she grinned at Chriscelia. "I need to dance with my sweet cheeks."

"How can I object?" Chriscelia wondered and went to talk to JJ and Tara.

"How are you?" Garcia asked as new music began, it's sweet melody blending perfectly with the end of the day.

"I'm fine, great in fact. I can't wait to get married, Garcia."

She shook her head and smirked at him. "I can't believe how changed you are."

"I'm not changed," he argued.

"Yes, you are. Chriscelia's made you happy, Spencer. You can see it in your eyes, and the way you carry yourself," she observed. "There's a new light in your eyes."

"I find myself waking up in the morning and wondering how all of this happened," Reid said. "I can't figure it out."

"I told you that everything happens for a reason."

Reid smiled at her. "For once, I believe you."

"Good, because I like seeing you this way."

"Thank you."

"Everyone," Rossi interrupted the dancers. He turned down the music and gestured to them. "Grab your glasses. I want to make a toast to the happy couple."

"I thought you're supposed to wait until the wedding," Derek hollered.

"You, be quiet," Rossi scolded, and they roared with laughter.

"To Spencer and Chriscelia," Rossi began. "My mother always said that every good thing finds us when we're ready for it. I know you two are ready to face what life brings to you, be it good or bad because you have each other. May you always walk life's road together."

"Here, here," Morgan said as they clinked glasses and took sips of champagne.

"Thank you all for coming," Reid said. "And, thank you, Dave, for hosting this party for us. You've made our announcement a true event."

"Yes," Chriscelia said. "Thank you. I want to say to all of Spencer's friends, thank you for taking me into your hearts. If anyone had told me that four months ago I'd meet someone like Spencer, and through him, all of you, I would've said they were crazy. Thank you for bringing so much laughter and light to my life and thank you for loving Spencer."

"It's not always easy," Rossi said, and Spencer choked on his champagne. "Why?" He squeaked, and they all shook their heads, as Rossi rolled his eyes.

"Because you go off on annoying tangents, and you give inappropriate statistics at the worst possible times."

"When?" Spencer wondered, genuinely perplexed.

"Remember flying in the jet with tornados threatening to hit at any time?"

"What about evil twin, eviler twin," Emily said.

"Or, what about how many results you get when you type death into a search engine," JJ put in.

"Come on, you guys," Spencer protested.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," Chriscelia said as they laughed, "but I think we need to talk," she said to the team in general.

"No!" Reid said.

"Yes," said the remainder of the team.

"I want to hear these stories, too," said Will and Sam at the same time.

"Me too," Monica chimed in.

"Guys," Spencer said again, and his face was so red, Chriscelia thought he might spontaneously combust from embarrassment."

"We're just kidding," JJ said.

"I wasn't," Rossi said.

"This is some party," Spencer complained. "I get _no_ respect."

"Sure, you do, kid," Morgan said. "I respect you."

"I think it's time for us to leave," he said to Chriscelia.

"You can't because I made dessert and there's a fresh pot of coffee in the maker."

Reid shook his head and said to Chriscelia. "Are you sure you want to marry into this crazy family of mine?"

"Yes," she said resolutely. "I'm not afraid."

"I'm glad you said that because I need someone on my side for a change."

"Oh, he's _so_ picked on," Morgan teased.

"I _am_ ," Spencer said, but he began to laugh.

"All right, the comedy portion of the program is over," Rossi said, drily.

"Yeah, let's have dessert," Garcia said."

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Spencer exited his bathroom and found Chriscelia dressed in pink, white and yellow striped pajamas, and a pink tee-shirt with Tweety-Bird on the front.

"Cute," Spencer said. "Love the tee-shirt."

"Thanks," she said. "It's comfortable."

"I take it this means I won't be getting laid tonight as you're not wearing anything seductive."

Chriscelia narrowed her eyes. "Watch it, my friend. You might be sleeping on the couch tonight."

"It's my apartment, remember."

"No, I haven't forgotten."

"Then I think you should sleep on the couch."

She reached over and smacked his shoulder. "I can't believe you said that!"

He sat and tried to pull her into his arms, but she slid away. "Oh no, you don't get to cozy up to me, after suggesting I sleep on this old thing."

"I was kidding," he pouted.

She slid back to him and tugged him into her arms. "I know, babe. I was just teasing you."

"I don't think I should forgive you," he said loftily.

She kissed him, and he sighed. "Well, I think I can be persuaded to forget, eventually."

"Slow down, tiger. Let's just sit here for a few minutes. I want to your arms around me."

"I think I can handle that," Spencer said and stroked his hands through Chriscelia's hair. "I love the texture of your hair."

Chriscelia let her head rest on his chest. "I love the sound of your heartbeat. There's something so soothing about it."

"Did you have fun tonight?"

"Yep. Your team is so great. I can't believe how they've accepted me and treated me like one of the family."

"You make me happy, and they want me to be happy, so yeah, they like you."

She lifted her head and kissed him again. "You make me _so_ happy, Spencer. I love you."

"I love you."

She returned her head to his chest. "I want to stay this way forever."

"Me too."

Spencer pulled an old quilted blanket his Aunt Thelma had made for his mother, from the back of the sofa and threw it around them. "Let's not worry about weddings, or work, or anything, Let's just breathe in and out and enjoy each other's company for a few uninterrupted moments.

"Sounds good to me."


	4. Chapter 4

"I'm here, my love," Chriscelia called out as she entered Reid's apartment.

Her eyebrows went up when he didn't answer her greeting. She shrugged and went to his tiny kitchen. She unloaded the shopping bags of food she'd brought for dinner and put the perishables in his clean, but consistently empty fridge. "No wonder you're so thin, there's never a scrap of food in this thing," she observed, wearily.

"Babe," she called again, but no answer.

She took a couple of steps toward the bedroom, then caught a glimpse of something on the couch. It was a foot, clad in a red and green striped sock hanging over the arm. She smirked and tiptoed to the sofa. The love of her life lay on his left side, sleeping deep with his hands clasped over his chest and his wavy hair splayed over an uncomfortable throw pillow. She shook her head and prodded him in the shoulder.

"Wake up sleeping beauty?'

He mumbled in his sleep and turned over to face the opposite side of the room. She went around and crouched down to him. "Babe, wake up, or you won't sleep tonight."

He sighed and jerked in his sleep. She leaned in and kissed him awkwardly on the mouth. "Mmm…" He sighed again, and his eyes fluttered open. "Hi," he said and pulled her back in for another kiss when she attempted to stand.

"You sleep like the dead," she complained. "I had to pull my princess routine and wake the sleeping prince."

He chuckled, stretched, and sat up. "I think you have your fairy tales backward."

"Nope," she assured him. "I came in, and there you were, so beautiful in your sleep."

Reid lifted his eyebrows. "I think you've been working too hard."

"That's why I'm here. We both decided to take the evening off, no wedding talk, no writing talk, and no obsessing about Mr. Scratch."

"I can't help it," he said, worriedly. "He goes after our families. Now that my mother is gone, I worry about you."

"Don't, because nothing is going to keep me from marrying you, Spencer Reid, not even a psycho killer."

Reid smiled broadly at her and tugged her in for another kiss. "You're right. It's been six weeks since we decided to marry, and all we've done since then is plan for a wedding, worry, and work, with very few breaks."

"True, but I did enjoy last Sunday morning," she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

"Stop it," Spencer laughed. "You're incorrigible."

"I don't know why you say that when it was your idea."

"What can I say, you're too delicious for your own good," he said, slyly and tried to kiss her again.

"Oh, no, you don't, I have dinner to make."

He sighed. "Fine, if I can't have my favorite before dinner snack, then I might as well help you."

"Cute," she lunged at him, but he dodged out of her reach. "Just for that, I might pack up my food and leave."

"I'm sorry," he said, but there was humor in his eyes.

"I don't believe you."

"That's your prerogative."

Chriscelia gave him a look that made him chuckle. "I don't think you're taking my wrath seriously."

"Nope," he agreed.

"I give up."

She went to the kitchen and Reid decided to take a long shower. Chriscelia liked to have room to cook, and he was lousy as a sous chef.

When Spencer emerged from the shower, dressed in jeans and a Dr. Who tee shirt, he found Chriscelia adding a large bowl filled with a green salad to his table. "Soup's on," she said, jauntily.

"I don't see soup," Spencer said, seriously.

"You're so literal, lover man. We're having salad, because it's healthy and because we've been subsisting on too much junk food for the last month and a half."

Spencer shrugged. "I'm fine with whatever you chose because I'm starved."

"Then let's eat."

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"That was delicious," Spencer said as they worked together to clear his table.

"Thank you. I'm glad you liked it. It's something Pam taught me to make in college, when we were poor, struggling students."

"I wish I could've known you then," Spencer said wistfully. "I'll be you were cute. "

"I was thinner, but only because I spent too much time studying and not enough time eating, unlike now."

"There's more to you than just the physical, Celia. I thought you were beginning to believe that about yourself."

She ducked her head then met his eyes. "I am, but there are times when I still feel self-conscious. Wearing your ring, helps tremendously."

"Why?" Spencer asked in genuine confusion.

"Because I have a tangible reminder that you love me for who I am."

Reid shut the door to his seldom used dishwasher and began the wash cycle. "Celia, there are many people in your life that love you for _who_ you are."

"Yes, but you're the one that saved me from a stalker. You made me face that I needed to talk to someone about Darren and the rape. Thanks to you, I feel like someone that _deserves_ love. "

"Thank you," he said and took the hand that wore his ring. "You'll never know what you've been to me for the last five months. I doubt I'd be standing here, feeling as though I can survive losing my mother without you. You saved my life."

"It was nothing, kind sir."

She smiled at him, and it was as radiant as the sun bursting through the clouds after a long, violent storm. The warmth of her grin made his insides tingle, and despite his pledge to not talk about the wedding, he said. "I'm so glad I'm going to marry you. I'm the luckiest man on earth.

Chriscelia tugged him close and kissed him. "Don't you ever forget it," she teased, and he laughed.

"Come on; I'll help you wash up the pots and pans and put away leftovers."

"Thank you."

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Spencer sighed as he reclined on the sofa with Chriscelia sitting between his legs, sipping a glass of white wine. He'd chosen a mug of tea, much to her surprise. "This is the life. I want to stay here forever," Chriscelia said.

"I wholeheartedly concur with that wish," Spencer said, lazily. "I don't want you to go anywhere."

They were silent for a few minutes, and then Spencer said. "What's bothering you?"

"Why do you think something's bothering me."

He tapped her shoulder, and she tipped her head back to see him looking at her. "Because you were quick to mention not talking about the wedding or your book. I can see why you don't want to talk about the wedding, but why not your new book?

"You read me too well, my love. I thought if I got away from my apartment and all my wedding plans and to-do lists, I'd feel less like punching something and more like – I don't know what," she wailed.

Spencer slid his hand up and down her arm. "I'm not sure why you thought of my place as less chaotic. It's a bit of a mess."

"I don't care. Your mess is comforting because it's you."

He chuckled. "Okay, I don't get it, but I'll take it."

She turned her face into his shoulder and inhaled deeply. "I love the way you smell, Spencer. Like coffee and this musky scent that makes me feel so calm. What am I going to do? I told my publisher I'd send her my first two chapters weeks ago. She's not happy."

"Perhaps I can help. Where are you stuck?"

"It's Kira. I see her in my head, but I'm trying to figure out why Samuel finds her attractive."

"Oh, I see."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean? Chriscelia pushed away from him and glared at him in a way that made his eyebrows go up.

"I only met that you're going about it all wrong. Kira is your heroine. She doesn't exist just to please some ideal of Agent Samuel. She's the one that's running from an abusive ex-husband. What is her personality? I don't mean you have to make her someone that you think Agent Samuel would be attracted to," Spencer said.

"What you're saying is that I'm trying too hard to make her perfect when there's more to her than a love interest for my main character?"

"Yes. Think of it as if you're a character that someone made up just to be someone's girlfriend. That's hardly fair to her."

"Yes, but I'm real, and Kira's not."

"That's not what I meant, Celia."

"I know what you mean. It's just difficult this time."

"Why?"

"Because Agent Samuel is based on you. I never based a character on someone so close to me."

"Are you trying to say you don't want to let me down?"

Chriscelia nodded and curled up to him again. "Yeah. Stupid, huh?"

"Yes. You don't have to worry about me. It's your story. I'll love it no matter what you decide. I do think that Kira should reflect the kind of woman stuck in an abusive relationship that decides to leave it. That takes strength, but she'll have some PTSD, that's in inevitable, and she'll also have self-esteem issues, too. What are her hobbies? Does she have family and friends or is she alone?"

"Okay," Chriscelia held up a hand. "I get it. Thank you, babe. You reminded me that I'm trying too hard."

"You're welcome?"

He kissed her, and when he tried to pull away, she tugged him back. "At least we know that Agent Samuel's a great kisser," she teased.

Reid rolled his eyes. "Please tell me you're not giving him all my personality traits."

"Why not? You're the best man I know."

"The best man you know is a recovering drug addict and has undiagnosed borderline Asperger's Syndrome, not to mention the possibility of Schizophrenia and Alzheimer's in his future?"

Chriscelia pulled away from him, and he flinched at the irritation blazing in her eyes. "I don't _care_ about any of that, Spencer. You're years past the typical onset of Schizophrenia. Alzheimer's is not a certainty for you, not to mention that if you do have Asperger's, then who cares. I love you for all that you are," she said and held up her left hand. "I'm marrying you because I love you. I'm basing a fictional character on you because I take all the good with the bad."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to upset you."

She wiped at the tears in her eyes. "No, it's not you, Spencer. I'm just feeling stressed."

"About the wedding? You know we could go off today and elope. I don't care about a fancy ceremony."

"Oh, no," she said and began to grin at the hope in his eyes. "We are not eloping. You know perfectly well that Garcia would kill you if you dared marry without her."

He sighed, and his shoulders slumped. "You're right. Still, I say we make it as fancy or as simple as we want. It's our day, after all."

"So much for not talking about the wedding or writing."

Spencer hugged her tight. "I think we've learned our lesson about communication more than once."

"Yeah, I think you're right."

"So, we agree that if we need to talk, we talk, regardless of the circumstances or our fears and doubts."

"Agreed," she said, and they shook hands, solemnly. "Right now, I would like to just sit here for a while and enjoy your arms around me. You make me feel safe."

"What the lady wants, the lady gets," he said and tightened his arms around her.

"Hm… That's better," she sighed and closed her eyes.

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A ringing phone pulled Spencer out of a reluctant sleep. He opened his eyes to find that he still reclined on the sofa with Chriscelia in his arms. He shifted to remove his work phone from his pocket, and Chriscelia woke. "What is it?"

"Work."

She climbed off him, and he looked at the text on his phone. "I have to go. Emily said there's a new lead on Scratch and it looks promising."

"All right, but please be careful."

"I'm sorry about this. I was hoping we'd have a nice evening together."

"It's not okay, but I understand, and I want you to catch this guy so we can get on with our lives."

"Me too."

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"I'm sorry I had to call you all back into the office, but I received a text message from Garcia that she didn't send."

"Someone with incredible skills cloned my phone," Garcia said.

"Someone like Mr. Scratch." Steven inquired.

"That's what I think," Emily said. "The message said that the US Marshalls found Mr. Scratch and that Hotch and Jack are transitioning back to DC, but as a precaution, they're staying in a safe house for the night. It also said she'd text me the address."

"That doesn't sound like Garcia, and wouldn't they contact you, ahead of Garcia?" Tara asked.

"I checked with WitSec," Alvez said, "They assured me that Hotch is still in protective custody. They have eyes on him and Jack as we speak."

"Yes, that's why I'm sure this is a trap, but one we have to check it out."

"Then let's go," Rossi said.

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Garcia sat, pulled on her headset and said. "Alright, Voltron, sound off."

"Have we dispatched units to the house Scratch tried to lure us to," Emily asked as two FBI SUVs surged through the darkness toward their destination.

"I coordinated it before we left. They're on their way," Tara confirmed.

"SWAT will meet us on sight and Scratch's house," Luke added.

"I know we all want this son of bitch's head on a platter, but SWAT has to clear every single room before we step inside." Emily reiterated to the group.

"Have they been briefed this guy's traps have traps?" JJ inquired.

"The house itself could be a setup." Rossi reminded them.

"Or a waste of our time so he can get away," Stephen theorized.

"Whatever it is, he's going to try to take us by surprise, so we have to be ready for anything," Emily said.

Seconds later, the speeding SUVs suddenly hit an obstacle in the road. Their tires burst and with the squeal of brakes and the squeak of over-stressed metal they careened and skidded to a stop facing sideways and each other in the middle of the road.

"Is everyone okay, "Emily demanded.

"Yeah, we're good," JJ panted and briefly caught Spencer's eyes as he tried to catch his breath from his seat next to Steven and behind Alvez.

Then, the roar of a huge diesel engine came from nowhere and with the crash of metal and the screaming of tires, a semi-tractor plowed into them.


	5. Chapter 5

Red and blue lights pulsed around him in long, sweeping arcs that revealed, then condemned faces, cars, and trees to black night and shadow. He stared at the flashing lights, unable to think past the current moment. He watched the colors swing around and around as though he'd become caught in a net of light from which there was no escape. He had to sit still and hope that the light didn't sweep him away into oblivion.

"Spence," JJ touched his arm and broke the spell.

He looked at her and for a moment wondered at the tears in her eyes, then he remembered. The accident. No, not an accident, a _deliberate_ act of sabotage and attempted murder.

The left side of his face stung and burned. He couldn't think past the moment, as his brain seemed to move in slow motion. Why? The side impact airbag. His brain searched for some explanation. _You were hit by an object moving at 100 miles per hour and with the force of 5 to 7gs. What do you expect?_

"Spence, you okay?"

"Hm, what?"

"Are you _okay_?"

"I'm not sure, I think so."

"His face has airbag abrasions, and there's a nasty cut on his arm. He needs to go to the hospital, and it looks like you need to be checked," said a stranger, and Spencer realized he wore the uniform of a paramedic.

He also noticed that JJ's face bore similar marks of an airbag and she favored her left leg, groaning as she sat next to him. "I think I'm okay, just a hurt knee and face."

"JJ, you should go to the hospital," Reid said, still feeling like his head floated on his shoulders instead of attached to them.

"You need to take your own advice," said the paramedic.

"I'm fine," Reid repeated stubbornly, and suddenly he wanted to talk to Chriscelia, to hear her voice and to feel her arms around him. He wanted to smell the unique scent of her hair and taste her lips.

"You're _no_ t," said the medic as he examined JJ. "You're both going to the hospital."

"Spence," JJ said. "Stephen's gone."

He looked at her uncomprehendingly in the sweeping, flashing red and blue lights of the ambulances and police cars. Her face slipped in and out of the light as though she stood in the middle of a stroboscopic light storm. "What?"

"He didn't make it."

"But, he was alive, when I left the car."

She swallowed and put an arm around him, despite the medics trying to tend to them and convince them to go to the hospital. "He crashed as they were moving him to the ambulance, and they couldn't bring him back. His head trauma… it was too severe."

Spencer felt something break away from his heart, another piece belonging to a member of his family gone. It started with Elle, then Emily and JJ leaving, then Gideon dying, Then Kate, Alex, and Morgan leaving, then Hotch sent to witness protection.

"I thank God, you're okay," JJ said.

"It could've been me," he said, and he couldn't think past that one thought. "If I'd sat behind you."

"Spence," tears filled her eyes. "It _wasn't_ you. You're _here_."

"Yes, I am, but now Monica's a widow, and his kids are orphans. Why did this happen, JJ?"

"I don't know."

"We need to go," Spencer started to rise.

JJ pulled him down, and he sat because a sudden dizziness made everything waver. "No," said the paramedic. "We're taking you all to the hospital. You may have whiplash as well."

"I have to find Scratch. He's taken too much, JJ. He _has_ to pay."

"I know, Spence, and he will, but we can't go after him now. We have to regroup."

"I don't want to regroup," he snapped. "I want to take him out, _now_."

"I understand," she clutched at his good arm. "Don't you think I'm tired of living in fear, in wondering if he'll come after my husband, and my children. I don't know how much more I can take."

Spencer looked at her, and another piece of his heart shattered. "I'm sorry, JJ."

"It's okay, I understand."

"Let's go," Spencer said. "The medics are right. We need to be checked out, and then we can get Scratch."

She smiled and lay her head on his shoulder. His phone beeped, and he answered. "Sweet cheeks," Garcia demanded with tears in her voice. "What's going on? No one's answering their phones."

"We're okay, except for Steven. He didn't make it."

"Oh my god," she whispered.

"Will you please contact Chriscelia for me. Tell her what's happened. I'm going to the hospital, and I don't want to call her from the back of an ambulance."

"The hospital! I thought you said you're okay."

"I _am_ , but I have airbag injuries and a cut on my arm. JJ's going with me to be seen for her knee injury and airbag abrasions. I'm sure the rest of the team will go as well."

"Are you _sure_ , or are you lying to spare my feelings?"

"Garcia, I'd never lie to you. We're on our way to George Washington Memorial. Please tell Chriscelia."

"I'm on it, wonder boy. I'm _so_ glad you're okay."

"Something tells me I'm going to have a whopper of a headache, but I'll be fine."

"I'm glad," Garcia said, and he heard the tears in her voice.

"Tell Chriscelia I love her."

"I will."

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"All right," said their ER doctor. "The last stitch is in.'

"I don't understand Scratch's play in this," JJ said from the bed next to Spencer. "He had to know that government vehicles have all the latest safety technology. Why try to take us out with a semi?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out. I'm tired of his games and that he forced Hotch into hiding. I want to find him and put him back where he belongs."

"You'll get no argument from me."

"You both look fine," Rossi said from the doorway.

"I feel like I've been in a car accident," JJ said drily.

Rossi simply lifted his eyebrows. "Since when are _you_ the funny one."

"I'm not trying to be funny," she said and leaned back on the raised bed. "Scratch killed Steven, Dave. I don't care if he used another surrogate to do it. I _want_ him!"

"You'll have to take a number and get in line," Rossi commented.

"You all need rest," interrupted the doctor. "I'm going to write pain relief prescriptions for you, and then you can go. I want both of you to follow up with your doctors tomorrow."

"No narcotics," Reid said firmly. "In fact, I don't need pain meds."

"Yes, you do," said the doctor. "I can see it on your face. I'll give you both a non-narcotic pain medication.

She looked at JJ who shrugged. "I'm not too brave to say I don't need it. My knee is killing me."

The doctor raised her eyebrows at Spencer. "Okay," he said. "I'll take the meds."

"Good. I'll send them back with an aide."

"How's everyone?" Reid asked Rossi when the doctor left the room.

"Fine, various cuts, and bruises, except for Luke. He has broken arm and whiplash. Mentally and emotionally, I think we're all in shock, which is what Scratch wanted."

Rossi showed Reid the manila envelope in his hand. "This came for you, Spencer."

Reid's eyebrows went up. "For me. Who knows I'm here."

"I have no idea. A nurse said it turned up in their mail this morning, addressed to you. They were going to send it back addressee unknown when we came in tonight. I think you have the entire front desk staff wondering how someone knew you'd be here tonight."

Reid felt a cold chill run down his spine at the handwriting on the front of the envelope. It was addressed to him, without a return address, but he recognized the postal stamp. He pulled out the tablet from the cushioned interior and switched it on.

"Surprise," Cat Adams said from its depths. "I'll be you didn't expect to hear from me ever again, Spence."

"What the hell?" Rossi said over his shoulder.

"I can give you Mr. Scratch." Cat continued with a flirtatious grin. "Of course, nothing's free. If you want him, you better come to me, now. You know where to find me, after all, you put me here."

Reid stabbed the off button. "I don't believe this," he said.

"What does Cat Adams have to do with this," JJ asked.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out."

"No," Rossi said. "You're not dealing with her again."

Reid rounded on Rossi. "I have to. If I can outsmart her once, I can do it again. We get Scratch, and we're free. Hotch can come home. We get the man that killed Steven. Don't you want that?"

Rossi held his ground. "You are not going to Mount Pleasant, Spencer. She's baiting you, and you _know_ it."

"I don't want to live in fear," Reid said. "I'm getting married, Dave. I don't want to have to worry about my fiancé and what might happen to her if Scratch remains at large. Even if Cat is playing me, I must take that chance. Can you or Tara pick up Chriscelia and take her to the Academy. She'll be safer there."

"She's in the waiting room," Tara said as she entered their room. "I was just looking for you. What?" She saw the look on their faces. "What's happened now?"

"Rossi will fill you in," Reid said. "Please, look after Chriscelia," he pleaded.

"I promise," Tara said.

"We'll keep her safe," Rossi assured him.

Reid took the tablet and returned it to its envelope. He gave it to Tara and hurried out of the room with JJ limping behind him, her knee in a brace. "Spence! You're not going to see Cat alone. I'm going with you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm going to see Chriscelia, and then we need to get to the jet."

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Chriscelia launched herself off the waiting room chair and into his arms the minute he walked into the brightly lit room. "Oh, Spencer. I was so worried, and they wouldn't tell me anything."

"I'm sorry." He put his head on her shoulder and breathed in the wonderful smell of her mint shampoo and her musky perfume. "I'm sorry I frightened you. I'm all right, just a few cuts and bruises."

She pulled back and looked him over. "Are you sure? Garcia told me about the wreck and your injuries." She lightly touched the dressing on his face, and he winced. "Sorry, babe."

"It's okay. You have the touch of a feather."

Chriscelia wiped tears away. "Thanks, but I'll be more careful. I'm so sorry, Spencer. Garcia told me about Steven. I liked him very much."

He held her tight and forced back the anger that threatened to overtake him and spill onto Chriscelia. "Thank you, Celia. I'm so glad you're here.

She kissed him, and he participated with eager enthusiasm despite their surroundings. "Hey," said Garcia. "Knock it off, you two."

Chriscelia let him go, and Garcia hugged Spencer tightly. "I refused to believe you're okay until I saw you," she said.

"I am okay, but Luke has a broken arm. I'll bet he could use some cheering up right now."

"I'm going to find Emily, and then maybe I'll drop in to see him if I feel it necessary."

"When you're finished cheering up Emily and Luke, could you look into Mount Pleasant Women's Correctional Facility. I want to know all there is to know about it. Send it to JJ's tablet. We're on our way there now."

"Why?" Garcia's eyes were huge behind her glasses.

"I don't have time to explain. Chriscelia," he drew her away from the others. "I have to go. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"What's going on, Spencer?"

"I promise I'll tell you about it when I come home."

"I thought you were after Mr. Scratch, what does he have to do with a women's prison?"

"We are after him, and if I'm successful, we will finish this tonight."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"I don't want you to go, but I can see there's no stopping you. Please be careful. You scared me to death tonight. I don't want to lose you."

Tears welled up in her eyes, and his heart thumped painfully as anger at Cat made his hands tremble. "I will be careful," he assured her. "You won't get rid of me that easily."

"I hope not because I'm going to marry you in less than five months, Scratch or no Scratch, you understand me."

"Yes."

He kissed her again and then he was gone out into the night and away from her arms.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

 _ **A/n thanks again to all my faithful readers. Please enjoy the next chapter.**_

The clang of metal on metal as doors and barred access points opened and closed was like the sound of finality. Spencer glanced up at the red flashing light to his left and waited for the last door, to open and allow him into Cat's world. He looked over at JJ, and she nodded.

"I'm right here with you."

"I know, JJ. I want to finish this, and get back to finding Mr. Scratch. He _has_ to pay."

JJ touched his shoulder and smiled. "He will, Spence. I promise he _won't_ get away anymore. If Cat, by some chance has information we can use to bring him down, then we didn't waste our time coming here."

"I hope you're right."

"She knows she can't hurt you, Spence."

"Which makes me wonder what her end game is," he said worriedly.

He went to the door, threw it open and strode into the holding room with JJ close behind. The door shut, but Reid barely heard it as he stared at Cat, who smirked up at him. "Spency," she said, and the light of a challenge flared in her eyes.

"Why am I here?" Spencer demanded without sitting. "What information do you have on Peter Lewis? Tell me _now_ , or I'll walk out that door without so much as a backward glance."

"I missed you," Cat purred at him.

"I'm not here to play another one of your games. Tell me what you know about Scratch, _right_ now."

He approached her, but she put out a hand to ward him off. "No, stop! You don't get to come in here and hiss at me like I'm some kind of criminal. Now, we do this _my_ way."

She kicked the chair tucked under the table, and it sailed into Reid's hand. "Have a seat."

He sat and stared into her cold, dark eyes. "You look tired, and stressed, Spencer, but then that's understandable after all you've been through tonight. I was thrilled to hear you walked away from the crash. Too bad about your teammate."

Spencer simply stared at her with eyes that burned with anger and fatigue. He resisted the urge to touch the dressing on his face.

Cat shifted in her chair and sighed. "I'm sorry to hear about your mother." She said, changing the topic of conversation.

"No, you're not," he said calmly.

"Aren't you going to ask how I knew she died?"

"No."

They stared at one another until Cat said. "How did you stay sane after her death? You're such a complete mama's boy that it must be _hell_ for you now that she's _rotting_ in the ground."

"Yes, well at least I know where she is," he said. "You have no idea where to find your father."

"Spencer, how do you expect me to help you when you _insist_ on baiting me."

He smiled at her and JJ wondered if Cat had forgotten her last encounter with Spence and that he wouldn't be distracted or deterred.

"I'm not baiting you, Cat, but you _are_ wasting my time."

"Why don't you tell blondie there to step aside, while we talk in private."

Reid looked back at JJ and nodded. She left, closing the door behind her which brought back Cat's smirk. "Now, let's play another game."

"No, I don't think so. I'm done playing games with you."

"I can give you Scratch and make it possible for Aaron Hotchner to return and for all of you to go back to your lives, but there's something I'd like in return."

Reid simply lifted his eyebrows. "I already searched for your father. I couldn't find him."

"I don't want my dear old dad, Spencer. I want information. A simple exchange."

"My mother is _dead_ , Cat. There's nothing left for me to share."

"No, that's not true."

"Isn't it," he stood up. "I told you I would not play the game. Goodbye, Cat."

She laid her hands on her belly. "If you'd simply made a different choice four months ago, this happy event might be a celebration for both of us."

Spencer's eyes narrowed. "You're pregnant."

"Yes, and that's your next puzzle, determine who's the baby daddy, and he'll lead you right to Scratch."

"Verifying if you're lying is simple enough," he said and shrugged. "What information do you want?"

"Tell me how you survived the loss of your mother."

Reid smiled and sat back in his chair. "I'm afraid you're in for a disappointment. I have all the support I need with my friends at the BAU. They got me through it all."

"I don't think so. I think you had someone other than the drones at the FBI to help you through your loss."

Reid forced his hands to remain at his sides and his expression neutral. "What did you mean about my choice, four months ago," he asked, taking a different tact.

"You researched alternative medicines for your mother in Mexico. You were dealing with a Dr. Nadine Ramos. Why did you decide to back away?"

"I determined that the risks of crossing the border multiple times under my passport and without following FBI security protocols were too dangerous. I couldn't take the chance that the medication wouldn't work and I would've risked my standing at the FBI for nothing. My mother wouldn't have wanted me to risk everything for her. I decided it was prudent to do more research. I thought I had more time. I was wrong."

"A wise choice, considering that Dr. Ramos is dead."

Reid hoped the jolt of complete surprise, to his system did not show on his face. "How would you know that?"

"Come on, Spencer. Let's not play games, or rather, let's, but the kind of game I want, not the game of pretended ignorance. I'm sure you know that I've kept track of you."

Reid shrugged. "You were involved with the murder somehow, and you wanted me to be involved as well."

"Very good," she clapped her hands. "Yes, I had intended to frame you and put you behind bars. After all, we deserve each other, so it follows that you should spend time behind bars. Unfortunately, you decided not to go back to Mexico, and well, I decided to have my associate kill her anyway."

He stared at her with eyes that were her undoing. "I shouldn't be surprised, and yet I am. You want to punish me."

"Yes, for every day I've sat alone in solitary. It's all _your_ fault."

"No, it's _your_ fault, Cat. Accept that fact and move on. You'll never turn me into you."

"As I said, we deserve each other, Spencer. I saw your capacity for cruelty that night when you lied to me. You enjoyed it."

"Yes, I did." He readily admitted and smiled.

"I was right."

"We don't deserve each other, Cat. No matter what you believe me capable, we're _nothing_ alike."

The door to the room opened and he turned to see JJ standing there. He left without a word to Cat. "What is it, JJ?"

"I have her medical records. She's pregnant, and the timing works out to when your mother was in Houston."

"But why tell me about her plans to frame me and imply she had a way to become pregnant with my child despite sitting in solitary. What did she hope to gain from it?"

"Well, faking a pregnancy, or becoming pregnant by a man they obsess over, is straight out of the female psychopath handbook. It's manipulation at its finest."

"To what end," Reid repeated.

"Think about it. She said you deserved each other, so there must be something in you that she sees as like her. What is it?"

"She believes we have the same capacity for cruelty and lack of remorse. We don't have time for speculation, JJ. I want to find Scratch and put an end to constantly looking over my shoulder. We deserve to have our lives back."

"Yes, we do, but don't let him distract you, Spence. We've already determined that she's pregnant which means the father is most likely a guard."

"Yes," Reid said and nodded slowly. "Why let slip she's pregnant knowing we'd confirm and realize that she seduced a guard. We need to determine who he is and fast before Scratch disappears again."

Reid returned to the holding room and took his seat. "We verified your pregnancy."

"Are you jealous, Spencer."

"Why would I be jealous? If anything, I feel pity for your child. You're a psychopath, and you _bore_ easily. You'll lose interest in your child very quickly."

"You wouldn't lose interest in it; you'd be attentive and kind to your child."

"Yes, I would, but it's not mine, so there's nothing I can do for it."

"Don't you wish you'd had the chance to be the baby's father. I can imagine us together, can't you? Would you like to put your hands on me, hold me down, and bruise my body?" Cat said flirtatiously.

"I'm not that kind of man, Cat."

"Does Chriscelia know what kind of man you are? Is she willing to have your child?"

"My private life has nothing to do with this."

"I think it does."

Reid smiled, then chuckled. "She's beyond your reach. She's safe at the FBI Academy with Marine Guards and my team to protect her. You can't touch her."

Cat looked up at the ceiling and then pretended to clean her fingernails. "I'm getting bored, Spencer. Answer my question, and I'll tell you what you need to know about Scratch."

Someone banged on the two-way mirror behind him. "Something tells me that I don't need you to find Scratch."

He left the room, ignoring Cat calling him back. "JJ?"

"There's only one guard that worked at VA Max and Mount Pleasant WCF. His name is Lionel Wilkins, and he has two properties in Virginia. One in Falls Church, and a cabin off the Rappahannock River."

"That's where we'll find Scratch."

"I hope you're right."

Reid hurried back into the holding room as JJ got on the phone with Metro police. "The game's over," Reid said. "We found Wilkins."

"You know I hate to lose. What makes you think they're not walking into a trap?" Cat said calmly, but rage clouded her dark eyes.

"Well, thanks to Scratch, most of my team is sidelined after the accident. Instead, the police and SWAT will help us take him down. They're fully briefed that Peter Lewis likes elaborate traps. We'll get him and then it'll be over."

"I will find another way of making you pay for this," Cat said as a tear meandered down her cheek.

"You won't lose to me a third time, Cat. It's over for good."

He turned and left her sitting alone, pregnant and without the light of hope. He hoped for the sake of the child that someone kind would take it to their hearts and show it the nurturing love that every child deserved.

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Spencer leaned back in his seat on the jet and sighed. "I never want to see or talk to her again," he said to JJ as she joined him with a package of Cheetos in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.

"I'd say if you did, I'd worry about your mental health, Spence."

He forced a smile, then shut his eyes. He was so tired he thought he'd go right to sleep, but no such luck. He opened his eyes again and looked out the window to the night sky, but only saw his reflection in the glass.

"Spence, what do you think will happen to her baby?"

He looked over at his friend to see her studying his reaction with exhausted eyes. "I don't know. I wish I didn't care, but I do. That child doesn't deserve to have two parents in prison. I can only hope that it will be raised by someone that cares."

"I hope you're right."

"Me too."

His phone rang, and he saw Rossi's caller ID. "Hey, kid. Just wanted to let you know we got Scratch. He's dead."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, he had the place rigged with explosives. We tried to talk him down, but he opted to blow the cabin.

"So, no elaborate traps."

"No, I don't think he had time. I'm sure he didn't think we'd find him so quickly. There are signs that he planned to hole up here for a few days. I'm fairly certain he didn't think Cat would be his undoing."

"I'm glad he's dead. We'd never feel safe if he'd gone back to prison and now Hotch can come home."

"Yeah, kid. I've already been on the phone with Justice and WitSec. Hopefully, they'll process him out within a few days. I'm sure that Jack will be thrilled."

"What kid's been in the program twice by the time he's ten."

"None that I know of," Rossi said.

"You think Hotch will come back to the unit?"

"No, I think he's done."

"You're probably right. What do we have on Wilkins?" Reid asked.

"He was arrested coming out of VA Max at the end of his shift. He didn't put up a fight. In fact, he looked relived.

"I'm glad he's where he belongs."

"Me too, kid. Now, go home to your lady and get some rest. We'll leave the paper work on all of this for another day. SC Cruz gave everyone explicit orders to take at least two weeks off, and he's refused to let Emily or Alex back until after that period, or until their doctors give the medical okay."

"I miss Steven," Reid said.

"So, do I he was a good man."

"See you later, Dave. Take your advice and go home to your family.

"I will. Take care, Spencer."

"I'll see you later."

He hung up and told JJ about the death of Peter Lewis. "Good," she said firmly. "It's over, and we're finally free of him."

"Yeah," he looked out the window, and his mind began to race with thoughts that made his heart thud with only one emotion, the desire to hold onto Chriscelia until he felt clean once more.

"You okay, Spence."

"I'm great, just need some sleep."

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Reid nearly ran into Rossi's office upon returning to Quantico. Chriscelia lay stretched out on the couch asleep when he found her. His heart finally stopped racing as it had since Cat had mentioned her. He knelt next to her and kissed her forehead. "Hey," he said softly. "Wake up, beautiful."

She moaned quietly and turned over. "Hey, it's time to go home." He gently shook her shoulder.

Her eyes fluttered open and upon seeing him sat up and grabbed him into a tight embrace that almost knocked him off his knees. "Oh, my God, Spencer. You're okay. I was _so_ worried."

"Yeah," he kissed her until his head began to pound with reaction. "I'm fine."

"I heard about Scratch, and I thought – "

"I'm here. Mr. Scratch is dead."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," he hugged her close and stroked a hand through her, wavy, and soft hair. "It's over."

Chriscelia pulled back from him and tears began to fill her eyes. "I was so afraid, Spencer. I sat here and thought about the crash and how close I came to losing you."

"I'm all right," he assured her and reached out to tug her close.

"This time, but what about the next time."

"Chriscelia, this is my job and I know I can't promise –"

"I know," she tugged him close again. "I don't want to talk about this. In fact," she pulled back and looked him straight in the eyes. "I don't want to talk. At all. Take me home," she whispered, and kissed him.

He put his hands to her face and responded with such fervor, her knees began to buckle. "We need to get out of here," he said huskily. His hands trembled on her cheeks, and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I need you so much."

"Don't speak," she responded and put her hands atop of his gentle, yet strong fingers. "I understand," she murmured. "Take me home, Spencer."

"Come on, let's get out of here.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

 ** _A/n thanks to all who continue to support this story. Please enjoy._**

The digital clock on Spencer's bedside table read 5:47 when Chriscelia opened her eyes. She blinked and turned over, the sheets whispering over her body as she tried to move as slowly and quietly as possible. She could hear Spencer breathing deep as he slept, and she envied him that easy sleep. She reached over and touched him, her hand finding its way by sheer instinct to his neck, where she felt the pulse of his beating heart, a slow and steady rhythm that reassured and frightened at the same time. How close had she come to losing him just twenty-four hours before?

Chriscelia turned away from her fiance and slipped out of bed. She tiptoed to the door and then down the hallway bathed in the light of a Tardis night light he kept plugged in. She had to smile at the sight of it, and some of her worries abated just a little. She walked slowly into the living room, silvered by moonlight streaming through the half open curtains. She stopped near the couch and let her eyes survey the room while seeded in shadow and moonlight. She found that her gaze went to the chess set sitting on a card table near one of the apartment's windows.

The light from a car washed over the window and lit the room with bright golden light for the briefest of moments as she went to the table. She sat in Spencer's usual chair, an old fashioned, carved piece with green upholstery and clawed feet. She'd teasingly dubbed it his chess throne and alluded to him as the white king. He always dismissed her teasing and glared at her until she stopped giggling and turned her attention to learning the game, then he'd win and say. "Another well-deserved victory for the white king."

She smiled at the memory and picked up the white king in her fingers. The smooth surface was cool and inviting to the touch. She explored it with her hands and thought about another pair of hands, gentle, strong, and as delicate as the fragile wings of a bird. She closed her eyes and called up a memory of her second chess lesson. Spencer had won, of course, but this time the loss didn't sting. Maybe because she knew he'd been hurting so deeply from the loss of his mother, and anything in the ordinary would soothe his wounded soul like a healing balm.

 _Spencer held up the white queen. "This is the most powerful piece in the game."_

" _Why?"_

" _Because she can move any direction and for as many spaces as she wants. She protects the king and can lure the enemy into a trap, sometimes called the queen's sacrifice."_

" _Is that what you did in our first game?"_

" _Yes. I sacrificed my queen to save the king."_

" _You said a player can promote a pawn to queen."_

" _That's true, in certain circumstances."_

 _Chriscelia smiled for the first time since her defeat. "I think the Queen is my favorite piece. She kicks ass."_

 _Spencer smirked at her. "Yes, well it wasn't always thus." He said, rather flippantly._

" _What wasn't always thus," Chriscelia shot back and laughed when he rolled his eyes._

" _Chess grew out of a game called Shatranj, which consisted of only male pieces. The closest to the queen was a vizier, a weak piece that could fill one space at a time in one direction, diagonally. In the 15_ _th_ _century, this changed because of the reign of Elizabeth the first. She ended the practice of a knight's ability to knight another man. She felt that privilege should remain with the monarch. Thus, the end of chivalry and the beginning of the shift to modern day chess wherein the queen has all the power."_

" _I'm impressed," Chriscelia said._

 _Reid lifted his eyebrows. "You're impressed that I know the history of chess."_

 _Chriscelia shook her head and shot him an exasperated look. "No! I'm impressed that men of the 15_ _th_ _century recognized the power of a woman."_

 _Reid smirked at her. "It is only a game, Chriscelia."_

" _You know what I mean."_

" _Yes, I do. As such, I expect you to continue to be the kick-ass woman I fell in love with, even after we're married."_

" _I intend to," she promised and lifted his white king. "I think I like this game."_

 _Reid laughed. "Now you say that after consistently losing to me."_

 _She shrugged. "One day, I will beat you, and then you'll have to apologize."_

" _We'll see about that."_

" _I will if it takes the rest of my life," she assured him._

" _Good, because I fully intend to be with you for the rest of your life, Chriscelia Moore."_

" _I love you," she said softly. "I'll never leave."_

 _Spencer smiled, and his sad eyes brightened. "I'm glad you said that because I feel the same way about you."_

Chriscelia returned the white king to its spot on the board and felt tears collecting in the back of her throat. She'd almost lost him and the thought of not waking up to his love every day was more than she could bare.

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Reid opened his eyes to a new day and to a clock that read after nine in the morning. He turned and found the place next to him cold and empty. "Chriscelia," he said in a voice gravelly with disuse.

He listened, but there was no answer. He heard nothing from the bathroom when he called out to her. His face throbbed a bit from the airbag burn, and his arm ached from the shard of glass that had sliced him from shoulder to elbow.

He found Chriscelia wearing his shirt and a pair of his mismatched socks. He smiled, then realized that she lay on the couch with a book that had slipped to the floor, and his old quilt wrapped tightly around her body as if to ward off a blow. As he neared, he saw that she clutched something in her hand. It was the white queen from his chess set. His heart stuttered and tears collected in his eyes.

"Celia," he said quietly, then kissed her.

She exploded out of sleep as if driven from the realm of dreams by the burst of cannon fire. "Spencer," she cried, then leaped at him like the hounds of hell nipped at her heels. "Oh God, Spencer. It was _horrible._ "

He sat and tightened his grip on her. "It's okay, Celia. I'm here."

"You were dead," she said in a voice so broken by tears, he could barely make out the words. "It wasn't Stephen that died, but _you_."

"No, baby. I'm here."

"Yes, you are here, but what if you'd died, Spencer? _How_ could I go on without you?"

"You don't have to worry about that because it's _not_ going to happen?"

"How do you know that?" She yanked away from him and slid to the end of the couch. "No," she held out her hands as if to ward off an attack. The white queen she held slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor with a bounce, and rolled under his coffee table. "I can't," she said, and tears slid down her face. "I came out here because I couldn't sleep for thinking that if you'd sat in his place, you'd be dead."

"Chriscelia, there's no use wondering what might've been, I'm fine and –"

"Don't tell me there's no use in wondering what could've happened. You chase down killers, Spencer. How long before your luck runs out? I love you! I _can't_ lose you."

"You're not going to lose me."

"How do you know? Can you promise me that _nothing_ will happen to you?"

He went to her and took one of her hands. She tried to pull away, but he held tight. "I can't make you that promise, Celia. All I can do is what I've _always_ done, be as safe as I can be."

She pulled free of his grasp and stood. "I don't know if I can handle this. I'm so…" She lifted her hands and let them fall. "I'm scared, Spencer, more terrified than I can imagine. I love you, more than anyone else in my life. Do you understand what that means?"

"Yes," he stood and reached out for her, but she stepped away from him. "I know what it means to lose someone I love more than my life."

Chriscelia sniffed back her tears. "I don't know if I can do this, Spencer."

"What?"

"Marry you. I don't know if I can say I do, then let you go every day to face who knows what kinds of monsters."

"Chriscelia, _nothing_ has changed."

She shook her head and stepped back again. "I didn't understand," she said. "I didn't realize."

"Celia!"

"No, please just – oh _god_ I don't know what to do or say, or…"

"Celia, _please_ talk to me."

She burst into tears but didn't resist when he went to her and embraced her so tightly, that she struggled to breathe. " _Please_ don't go." He begged, and tears sprang to his eyes. "I _need_ you, Chriscelia. I love you so much; it hurts to breathe. Please!"

He let her go, and she stared at him with eyes full of terror and drenched with tears. "I," she swallowed hard, "I can't – I don't know what to say."

"Say you love me, Celia."

"I love you, but I don't know if that's enough anymore."

He stepped back from her and let his head hang down like an exhausted prize fighter. "All right, Celia. If you want to go, then I won't fight you, but I'll _never_ stop loving you."

She rushed at him and hugged him until he raised his arms and embraced her. "I'm sorry," she cried into his shoulder. "I don't want to leave. I just don't know how to trust that you'll walk through that door every day."

"There's _nothin_ g I can say to you that will make you understand, or reassure you. I can only say that I _will_ take care, Celia. I have hope, because of you. I have someone to come home to, and I _will_ fight to keep it."

"But you'll put yourself in harm's way every day," she said and wiped at her eyes.

"Yes, but it's _who_ I am. I can't change, Celia."

"I don't want you to change, Spencer. I want you to do what you love. I'll just have to face the fact that your job isn't a nice, safe desk job."

"You've always known that," he said seriously.

"Yes, but Steven dying brought it home to me that anything could happen. I guess I've been living in denial."

Spencer sat, and after a minute, Chriscelia joined him. She took his hand and held it as though he might slip away from her like smoke on the wind.

"I wish I could make you understand that everything will be different for me, but I can't."

"I know, Spencer. I have to find a way to live with the knowledge that every time you leave, you could be in danger."

"What can I do?"

"Nothing. I'll be all right. I think the accident and your visit that women's prison ganged up on me. I thought I was fine, but I guess I'm not."

"Chriscelia, _please_ believe that I don't want to cause you stress, but I love my job, and I can't imagine doing anything else. Can you understand?"

"Yes."

Chriscelia studied his face and thought how terrible it would be if she ran out of words to write. How could she go on with her life without telling stories to others?

"I understand more than you think."

Spencer smiled and kissed her cheek. "I'm so fortunate to have you in my life, Celia. I'll do _anything_ to convince you."

"You don't have to," she said and reached out to touch his hand. "I know you love me, Spencer. Please be patient with me and know that if I freak out, it's because I'm afraid."

He gathered her into another hug. "I promise I'll be patient if you'll be patient with me."

She laughed through her tears. "I promise."

Reid reached down and picked up the chess piece from under his coffee table. "I saw you with this in your hand."

Chriscelia looked at the white queen and smiled briefly. "I came out here because I couldn't sleep. I went to your chess table, and I remembered one of your chess lessons."

"Oh."

"Yes, when you showed me the queen sacrifice."

He opened his mouth, but she shook her head. "Do you remember the first time we played chess and I teased you about being my king and that I'd do anything to keep you safe?"

"Yes."

"I meant it, Spencer. I know I can't don a bulletproof vest and play bodyguard, but I _can_ be there for you, and I _will_ be."

"I will always love you for that, Chriscelia. You saved my sanity after mom died and you're here for me now. I can't tell you how much that means to me."

Chriscelia gently touched the dressing on his face. "I wish I could keep you out of harm's way, but I know I can't, so I'll learn to deal with it."

Spencer kissed her cheek, then took both her hands in his. "You'll always be the most important thing in my life, and because you are, I'll take extra care."

She sighed and blinked back more tears. "I believe you, Spencer. Please be patient with me if I lose my faith in you, okay."

"I promise."

"And I promise to try to remember that you're doing what you love. I can't take that away from you because you'd never try to stop me from writing."

"No," Spencer agreed, "even though there are times that the stress of what you do seems more than you can handle."

She squeezed his hands tight. "Writing brought me to you," she said and smiled when he just stared at her.

"I don't understand."

"I was in Las Vegas for my father's funeral, but I never told you that I was also there to do research for my last book."

"Right," Spencer agreed. "One of your secondary characters, Alissa had a gambling problem. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I thought you'd think less of me if you knew that I was there to work right after Dad's funeral."

"Why would I think less of you?"

"I don't know. It seems silly now. I guess I thought you'd think I was insensitive to my family."

"Because you didn't have the best relationship with your dad? I'm hardly one to judge when it comes to fathers."

"I know that now, and that's why I wanted to tell you."

He sighed and looked at his feet. "I was thinking last night that I want to call my dad and tell him about the wedding and about what's been happening here. I have this sudden urge to confide in him. Isn't that crazy."

"No," she leaned in for a kiss. "It's not crazy. He's your dad, and you need him whether you like to admit it, or not."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with the fact that you know me so well."

Chriscelia grinned at him with eyes that shone with contentment instead of the hollowness and fear he'd seen upon her waking from sleep. "That's too bad," she teased. "You'll have to get used to it."

"Why don't we have something to eat and then I'll call dad? It's still early in Nevada."

Chriscelia rose to her feet and hugged him gently. "I think that's a great idea. I'll make my famous omelets."

"Oh, you know the way to my heart."

She shook her head. " _Watch_ it, mister."

He kissed her. "Thank you for understanding and for loving me despite my love of chasing psychos."

Chriscelia lay her head on his chest. "I do understand, Spencer. I'm praying with all my soul that nothing happens to you, okay."

"Okay," he hugged her until his shoulder began to sting. "Ouch," he hissed.

Chriscelia pulled back. "Sorry, babe."

"It's not your fault. I want to hold you. I don't care if it hurts. I'll take this pain over being alone."

She smiled at him and her eyes filled with tears. "I'm so glad I'm not alone, my love."

"Don't cry."

"These are happy tears, this time."

He chuckled. "I'm glad."

She pushed him away. "Go take the shower I know you want and I'll start breakfast. Then you can call your dad."

"Yes, ma'am."


	8. Chapter 8

**_Disclaimer see my profile_**

Reid studied his telephone for several moments before sighing and dialing the number that would connect with his father, nearly three thousand miles away. He swallowed hard when the familiar voice of his dad crossed the miles. "Hello."

"Hi, Dad."

"Spencer. I was just thinking about you."

"You were?"

"Yes. I just finished a meeting with one of the partners. Her daughter is getting married, too."

"That's great," Spencer said softly.

"What's wrong, Spencer?"

"I'm not sure I know how to answer that question."

"Are you, all right? Did something happen to Chriscelia?"

"No, she's fine. This time, it's me."

" _You_? Spencer, tell me what happened."

Reid closed his eyes against the fresh memory of waking in the SUV and seeing Stephen, still alive, but bleeding, and then the news of his death.

"Do you remember my telling you about Stephen, the new profiler on the team?"

"Yes."

"We got a tip about an escaped serial killer we've been chasing. We were sure it was a trap, but we didn't expect that he'd ambush us on the road. He blew out the tires on our cars with a spike strip and then crashed into the vehicles with a semi-tractor trailer. Stephen didn't make it."

"Are _you_ all right," William demanded, his voice gruff with concern.

"I'm fine, dad. I have some airbag injuries, and a cut on my left arm that required stitches, but I'll be good as new in a couple of weeks."

"Is this killer still on the loose?"

"No, we found him. He killed himself rather than go back to jail. We caught an accomplice as well, so it's over."

"Good."

"I'm sorry to call you so early and drop this on you."

"Don't apologize, son. I'm glad that you feel comfortable calling me. It means a lot."

"I'm glad I can call you, dad. I miss mom so much, it hurts."

"I know, son. I know," William said. "Just know that she loved you fiercely."

"I remember," Spencer said and smiled. "She never gave up, did she?"

"No," William agreed. "Your mother was a fighter, like you, son."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Now, how is Chriscelia taking all of this," William asked.

"Not well. I truly terrified her this time. I was in the seat next to Stephen. If I had sat where he did then –"

"You didn't," William interrupted. "Don't think about the, "what if, because it will drive you insane. Everything happens for a reason, son. I believe it."

"Garcia says the same thing."

"I'd say she's a wise woman."

"She is," Spencer agreed. "You're right, but it's not easy, dad. Every time I close my eyes, I see the accident."

"It won't go away overnight, Spencer."

"I know, but I feel like it's just one more thing on top of everything that's happened in the last two years."

"What are you saying?

Spencer sighed. "I don't know, dad. I had a fight with Chriscelia this morning because she was terrified after the ambush. I can't argue with her. She's right when she says that she can't be sure I'll come home every night."

"She knows the dangers of your job, Spencer."

"Yes, but think about how much of a shock it must be to be directly confronted with the realities of my job. It's one thing to talk about it, and another to see it first-hand."

"Look, Spencer, I won't pretend that I don't feel the same. I worry about you, but I know that you love your job and that you do everything in your power to make the world a safer place, no matter the cost."

"Is it selfish for me to be willing to pay that cost, now that I found Chriscelia and we're planning a new life together?

"What do you want to do?

"I'm going to continue to do my job for now, but if something else happens, I'm not sure I can justify staying with the BAU."

"Spencer, I know you'll do what is right for you and your family."

"I'm not sure what to do to make Chriscelia understand."

"You _can't_ ," William said. "You have to let her work through it and decide for for herself what she wants and what she can handle."

"I think she's going to be all right, dad, but I'm still scared for her and me. I want us to be okay and move forward. I can't lose her."

"You won't lose her unless you try to impose your will on her. I made that mistake with your mother, and I lost my family. Don't make that mistake."

"I won't, Dad. I love her too much. She saved my sanity."

"Then, do what you have to do to hold on to her, Spencer. She's an amazing woman, and I'm proud I'll be able to call her daughter in a few months."

Spencer smiled. "She is amazing."

"Look, the bottom line is that you have something incredible. Hold on to it as _tight_ as you can, and love her with all your soul. The rest will fall into place before you know it."

"Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome. Be safe, son. I want time to make up for all the loss you suffered because of me."

"Dad, you don't have to –"

"I do," William interrupted. "Let me, Spencer. I want us to be close like we were when you were a small child."

"It can't be the same as it was, Dad, but we can go forward."

"You're right. I just want you to know, that I'm here for you."

"I know you are."

"Listen. I need to get going. I've got a meeting with a client in about ten minutes."

"Of course, Dad. Thank you for taking the time to talk."

"Anytime, son. Tell Chriscelia I said hello."

"I will. Bye, Dad."

Spencer put aside his phone and stood to stretch. Chriscelia entered the room ten minutes later. She'd showered and had dressed in an old pair of tattered jeans, a purple, blue and green striped tank top, and white sneaks. "Hey," she said and went into his arms. "Did you talk to your dad?"

"Yes. I told him about the accident. We talked about you and the conversation we had this morning."

"You mean the fight we had this morning."

"I prefer to call it a _spirited_ discussion."

Chriscelia rolled her eyes. "Seriously?"

"Yep."

She hugged him so tightly; breathing became an issue. "Chriscelia, you're breaking my ribs."

"I don't care," she said into his chest. "I love you so much, and I can't stand the thought of losing you."

"Chriscelia, you're not going to lose me."

She lifted her head. "Look, I don't want to go over the same ground. You are who you are, the man I fell in love with, and I'm okay with that."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

She reached up and touched the scar on his neck from his shooting in Texas. "I remember when you told me about this," she reached for his knee and touched it gently, "and when you told me about this. I thought, "Well, he survived," and I made myself accept these scars as part of what's made you so incredible."

"Chriscelia, I'm not –"

"Don't say you're not incredible, Spencer. You _are_! You're kind, compassionate, loving and the strongest man I know. You didn't get that way by sitting on the sidelines. So, I'll take the good with the bad and hope you have as many lives as a cat."

She grinned at him despite the tears in her eyes, and he kissed her. "I'd rather have one long, amazing life with you, then nine lives of mediocrity."

"Good answer."

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Spencer stretched his arms over his head and stood. He looked around for his shoes, which he found near the table holding his chess set. He was in the act of putting them on when Chriscelia emerged from his room. "How do I look?"

"Wow, you look great."

She fidgeted with the end of her sleeve and looked down at her shoes. "You sure? It's a memorial service, after all."

"Yes, you look appropriate and beautiful."

He walked around her taking in her black suit, and the bit of white lace peeking through from her new blouse. She wore new black pumps and nude pantyhose. She'd added the pearl earrings she'd bought with some of the advance money she'd earned from her latest book and a thin banded gold watch. Her make was subtle, with pink lips and a bit of blush, and mascara. He frowned when he looked at her eyes. "Something is different."

"I wanted to surprise you with a happy celebration, but then I decided just to wear them."

"What?"

She shook her head. "I suppose I should be happy that you don't care whether I wear glasses or not. I went to the doctor, and he gave me a pair of trial contacts."

Spencer smiled. "Oh, I knew something was different. I love it."

"Truly?"

"Yes, but please tell me you didn't do this because you think you're more attractive to me. I love you just the way you are."

"No, I didn't do it for you. I did it for me. I like them. The bridge of my nose doesn't hurt, and I can see better."

"Good," he said and kissed.

"Hey, watch the lipstick," she teased.

"Sorry," he grinned down at her, and she sighed. "What am I going to do with you?"

He simply grinned, and she smacked his good shoulder. "No," she said firmly. "We have a funeral to go to, and you're hurt."

"Okay," he shrugged, then frowned. "God, I wish I didn't have to go to another funeral of a friend. _Why_ did this happen?"

Chriscelia tugged him into her arms. "I don't know," she whispered, "but I'm here for you."

"I know, and I love you for it." He kissed the top of her head. "Let's go."

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Reid followed Chriscelia away from the sight of Stephen's final resting place. The sun, bright overhead, threw shadows to the ground that danced and writhed in the wind that ruffled his hair. Why did it have to be such a beautiful late spring day?

He looked back to see Monica and her kids, still huddled around the casket that bore the mortal remains of their father and husband. For a moment, the scene changed, and he saw Chriscelia and a small girl with wavy golden brown hair and chocolate eyes, clutching his mother's hand. The little girl looked up at him and –

"Babe," he blinked at the sound of Chriscelia's voice, and the scene changed back to Stephen's family. "What is it?"

"Nothing," he said and took her hand. "I was just wondering how they'll get along without him."

"I know, honey. I was thinking the same thing during the service. They'll be okay."

"How do you know?" He wondered as the passed more gravestones with dates and death and birth, and the names of people he didn't know, carved into polished marble surfaces.

"Because they have to," Chriscelia said. "I don't know Monica very well, but she seems like someone that won't let life get her down. She's a survivor, and something tells me she and Stephen passed that quality to their kids."

"I hope you're right."

"I'm a woman; I'm always right."

He snorted and shook his head. "We'll have to talk about that."

"I don't think so," she said loftily and sighed. "You sure you're okay. You seemed distant for a minute."

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good, because you and I have a wedding to plan. I want to embrace the good in our lives, Spencer Reid."

"So do I."

Reid took one last look down the hill and then followed Chriscelia to her car. She was right; they had to get on with their lives.


	9. Chapter 9

**_Disclaimer see my profile_**

Spencer used his key to open Chriscelia's door. He was about to call out to her when he realized that she lay asleep, curled up with a comforter her mother had given her for Christmas the year she'd moved into her first apartment. He smiled and took a step toward her. "Hey, Celia," he greeted softly.

She didn't respond to his greeting, so he glanced around and noticed that her wedding file was on the coffee table and some of her lists scattered on the floor. He frowned and picked up the fallen papers. He saw that some of it were a printed copy of her manuscript. He glanced at his sleeping fiancee again and his forehead furrowed. She never left her work lying around, especially her manuscript.

He left her on the couch and went to her room. Her bed was unmade, and he frowned again at sight. The first thing she did every morning made the bed. He put down his bag and quickly set about making the bed. Then, he unpacked into a drawer she'd given him when they'd become engaged. He decided to make a quick late morning snack and have a shower. Chriscelia might've stayed up late working, as she did when he was away on a case and was just a little tired. He'd let her sleep, and then they'd talk.

He took a quick shower, dried off, and dressed in a pair of blue sleep pants and a tee shirt. Perhaps he'd take a nap instead, as she still slept when he entered the living room. He went to the kitchen, instead. He noticed dishes in the sink, and his unease deepened. She never left dishes in the sink. He went back to the living room and leaned over Chriscelia. She still slept, and he could see that she looked pale and drawn. He put his hand to her forehead and realized that she had a slight fever. "Oh," he said and stepped back. "No wonder you don't look well. I'll let you sleep."

He cleaned the kitchen and was about to go back to the living room when he heard her stir. "Spencer?"

"Hey," he hurried in and crouched down next to her. "You okay."

"Don't feel good." She said, and tears slid down her face.

"What's wrong?"

"Strep throat." Her eyes widened. "You have to go. I don't want you to get sick because of me."

"Oh no," he shook his head. "I'm not leaving you alone."

"But, Spencer…"

"No! Let me help you into your room. I'll sleep on the couch if I have to, but I'm not leaving you alone."

"All right, you win," she said faintly and climbed unsteadily to her feet.

"Did you go to the doctor?" He asked as he helped her to bed.

"Yes, I have antibiotics, and he said to take pain pills for my throat."

"They should help with your fever as well, but right now, I want you to get more rest. Your body needs time to heal."

"I'm sorry," she said and began to cry again.

"Why?"

"Because you've been on a long case and I know you have to be exhausted."

"Don't worry about me. I'm going to get you settled and then I'll lay down in the living room. Your couch is extremely comfortable."

"Please go home, baby. I don't want to make you sick."

"No, I'm going to take care you. You've taken care of me when I needed you, and I want to return the favor."

"I'm too tired to argue with you."

He grinned at her. "Go to sleep."

"Yes, sir. Love you."

"I love you, too."

He arranged blankets around her and sat on the edge of the bed until he was sure she was completely asleep. He went to the storage closet and pulled out extra sheets and a blanket. Chriscelia was right about one thing. He was exhausted.

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The next morning, he woke to silence and sunlight. He sat up, yawned and climbed to his feet. He went to the kitchen and began to make coffee. The clock told him it was about seven a.m. He yawned again and walked as quietly as he could to Chriscelia's bedroom.

She lay propped up on her pillows, with her laptop open and she seemed to be watching something with her headphones. He stood there watching her and tried to decide if she looked rested, but he couldn't tell in the darkness of the room. She had her blackout curtains drawn, which always signaled that she wanted to rest. He was about to turn away when she seemed to sense him. "Spencer?"

"Yes, I'm here."

"Don't turn on the lights, please."

He moved to the bed and sat. "Don't come so close," she pleaded. "I don't want you to get sick."

"I'm not going anywhere," he said. "I'm here until you feel back to normal."

She sighed and shut her laptop. "I don't have the energy to fight you."

"Good," he said proudly. "It's about time you realize you can't win."

"It's not funny, Spencer. I don't want you to get this crap because of me."

"I promise to be careful."

"Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Yes, but I'm worried about you. Why are you sitting up instead of resting?"

"I can't sleep anymore, Spencer. I slept all day yesterday, and then I woke up this morning about three a.m and couldn't go back to sleep. I need to do something other than lay here trying to sleep."

"Why don't I make you breakfast?"

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to keep up your strength."

She nodded. "I can hear in your voice that I can't stop you."

"Good, and while I'm cooking, you think you're up for a shower. Hot water is great for clearing out your nasal passages."

"I don't know. Let me try to stand."

He leaped to his feet and stood by while she tried to stand. "I feel a little tired, but I'll take a shower. I need a bathroom break anyway."

He watched her go toward the bathroom; then his thoughts turned to the perfect breakfast for one suffering from Strep throat.

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When Chriscelia entered the kitchen, Spencer said. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be resting."

"I feel better after the shower, and anyway, I can't stay in that bed all the time. Isn't it true that a person recovers at a quicker rate if they get back on their feet?"

"That is true," Spencer said reluctantly. "All right, Miss Smarty Pants, sit and have your breakfast.

He put a mug of ginger tea and a plate of scrambled eggs with a bit of garlic. "The eggs are soft on your throat, and garlic and ginger are good for the immune system. I see that you have some yogurt, which you'll have later, as it's also good for boosting your immune system."

"I'm glad I'm engaged to a genius. However, would I survive without you."

"Is that sarcasm I hear?"

"Yes," she smiled at him.

"Good, because that means you're feeling better."

She sighed and pushed her eggs around on her plate. "I am feeling better; it's just my throat. It hurts, even with the pain killers and I hate taking pills."

"When did you begin to have symptoms?"

"Early in the morning yesterday. I was up late trying to organize the wedding. I went to bed about eleven and then woke up a little after three. My throat felt like it was on fire and I felt weak and tired. I took some pain meds and took my temperature. That's when I decided to go to the all night clinic. They did a test, and the doctor said Strep. I got my prescription and came home. I tried to sleep in my bed, but couldn't so I went to the living room, and that's where you found me yesterday."

"I'm glad I decided to surprise you."

"I'm sorry you had to come home to this after a long case."

"It's alright; I talked to Emily. I'm taking a few vacation days."

"Spencer, you shouldn't –"

"Stop," he held up a hand. "Remember we decided not to fight about it. I'm here no matter what. After all, we're going to be married."

"Don't remind me," she wailed. "It's less than two months away, and I have all this planning to do."

"You keep saying that as if you're alone. We're in this together."

She watched his eyes and saw the determination in them that meant arguing was out of the question. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply you weren't helping."

"I haven't been," he admitted. "That's going to change. I'm going to call Pam and Morgan. The best man and maid of honor and I are going to take over the planning for awhile."

"You don't have to do that?"

"Yes, I do. You're sick because you're trying to do too much between writing your book and this wedding."

She hung her head. "You're right. I haven't been sleeping or eating."

"Speaking of which," he nodded to her plate. "Eat, it's getting cold."

At first, she ate because it made him smile but then realized that she was hungry and the eggs felt good on her throat. "Thanks, babe," she smiled with real feeling. "This is delicious, and it doesn't hurt to eat."

"Good."

He began to eat his portion and nodded. "It is delicious if I do say so myself."

Chriscelia rolled her eyes, and he chuckled. "Got you to laugh."

"No you didn't," she said primly, then she laughed. "All right, you win. I'll finish my food like a good girl. What's next after breakfast, Dr. Reid."

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "I'm not a medical doctor, remember."

"I remember."

"I think you should do what you want," he said, and she stared at him.

"Seriously."

"Chriscelia, if you want to sit up for awhile, then do it. You'll know when you need to rest."

"I think I'll sit up if you join me. I want to talk to you."

"I'm happy to after I clean up from breakfast."

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Reid joined her fifteen minutes later. She lay at the end of the couch with her feet tucked and her favorite blanket wrapped around her body. She smiled at him as he sat and said. "Thank you for staying, Spencer. Sorry if I snapped at you."

"It's okay. You're entitled to be a little cranky."

"Thank you."

"What did you want to talk about?"

He played with the end of her blanket as he spoke, but there was trepidation in his eyes.

"I wanted to apologize. I got so wrapped up in work and the wedding that I didn't take care of myself, and here I am. You had to take off work to take care of me and –"

"Chriscelia," he interrupted. "Don't apologize. Yes, I am concerned that you're over working, but I'm not upset about taking care of you. It's a holiday weekend, and I'm starting mine early. The team was supposed to be on stand down for Labor Day."

"Oh no," Chriscelia cried. "The party at Dave's. I forgot about that. You're supposed to see Hotch now that he's back."

"I can see Hotch anytime."

"No," she argued. "The party's in four days. You're going."

"Chriscelia, I'm not leaving you alone on holiday. I've spoken to Hotch four times since he returned. He's looking forward to the wedding and meeting you, but if he has to wait on the latter, he'll be fine."

"Yes, you will go to the party," she ordered. "You haven't seen him since he went into the witness protection program. You're going."

"You wanted to meet him," he reminded her.

"Yes, and I will, just not in a few days. Please promise me you'll go."

He sighed and nodded his head. "I promise."

She narrowed her eyes when mischief crept into his face. "What?"

"I'm thinking about you meeting Hotch."

"Not funny," she complained. "You're not supposed to tease sick people, you know."

"No, I didn't know." He said innocently. "What, pray tell, are you supposed to do with them."

Chriscelia shook her head. "You're supposed to treat us with kid gloves and wait on us hand and foot."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm never sure whether you're serious or not."

She finally laughed a little. "Of course you don't have to wait on me, Spencer. I'm yanking your chain."

"Oh, well just for that… I think I'll go now."

"No, don't go," she pleaded.

"I'm not," he said and moved to hug her despite her protests. "I'm staying right here."

"Good," she said and sighed. "I think I'm going to take another nap. I'm feeling worn out. She yawned and got to her feet. "I'm sorry –"

"Don't apologize again," Reid insisted. "I'm perfectly capable of entertaining myself. I'm going to go over the invitation list and start addressing envelopes. We need to get them sent."

"Thank you, babe. I'd kiss you, but…"

"I know, go to bed."

She nodded and left him looking over their final guest list. She shook her head because in two seconds he was completely immersed in his task. One day she'd learn to concentrate so easily. She went to her room lay down and was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Disclaimer: not my property people, except for Chriscelia._**

 ** _A/n thank you again for reading and your kind comments._**

Chriscelia blinked against the sunlight entering her room. She sighed and rolled over to find the right side of the bed empty _and_ cold. Where was he?

She pushed up to a sitting position and looked toward the bathroom as if he might appear, but he didn't, so she stood and was about to put on her robe when he did appear at the bedroom door.

"Hey," he greeted with a smile.

He held a tray in his hands with two plates of eggs, fruit, and bacon, along with a couple of glasses of orange juice and more ginger tea for her. The delicious smell of food made her stomach rumble.

"What are you doing?

He shrugged. "It's Labor Day, and since you refuse to go to Dave's party, I thought we'd have breakfast in bed."

"Thank you," she said, refusing to take the bait he tossed about the party.

"You're welcome. How _are_ you feeling this morning?"

She returned to bed, sat up against her pillows and took the tray while he climbed in beside her and took a piece of crispy bacon from a plate.

"I'm fine, feeling much better. I'm _not_ happy that you sweet talked your way into sleeping in here last night."

He smiled, and that combined with his puppy dog eyes made her stomach tingle as she ate. "Stop it," she complained. "You shouldn't have taken the chance."

"I missed you," he said and sipped his juice.

She gave up and began to enjoy her eggs. They ate in silence until she couldn't take it anymore. "All right," she said. "I know what you're trying to do."

"I'm not _trying_ to do anything, Celia."

She rolled her eyes. "I suppose that you think using your name for me will change my mind."

"You're not contagious," he said and took the last bite of his eggs. "You're halfway through your regime of antibiotics, and you have more color in your face than you've had in days. I'm just suggesting that getting out of the apartment might be good for you."

She sipped her tea and frowned. "I _hate_ that you know me so well."

He simply stared at her with eyes that saw straight in to her heart. She studied him for awhile and finally saw what he'd tried to hide for the last four days.

"Babe, I'm okay. It was just an infection."

"I know," he hedged.

"You're not going to lose me, Spencer."

"I know that, too."

She set aside the tray and turned to face him. "Thank you," she said, and he reached out to touch her face with his delicate, but strong fingers.

"For what?"

"For taking care of me. I know I've been emotionally fragile and physically weak, but I _am_ better now, do you believe it?"

"Chriscelia, you don't – "

"We've been so busy with work, and the wedding, that we haven't talked about the accident and my reaction to it. I know I scared you, made you think that someday I'd walk out of your life –"

"I didn't think… I –"

"You did," she pushed. "I can see it in your eyes. I haven't noticed it while I've been sick, but now I can see it. Your eyes are the window to your soul, babe."

He hung his head. "I didn't mean for you to see it. I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing, Spencer?"

"Because you're sick and –"

"You think there's a better time to deal with this?"

He nodded and curled into her arms. "I know it's silly, but when you were sick, I began to let those feelings take over again. I thought I was past it."

"I'm sorry I scared you."

They were silent again until Chriscelia sat up and took his face in her hands. "I never meant for you to doubt me, Spencer. What can I do to make it better?"

"You can't," he sighed. "I have to figure it out on my own."

"Alright," she nodded and knew he had to work out his feelings without her, even if it hurt.

"I'm going with you to the party."

He sat back and stared at her. "I didn't do all of this to get you to change your mind."

"I know, but you're right. I'm no longer contagious, and I've been using my illness to avoid meeting Hotch. He's important to you, and I want to meet him for your sake."

"Celia –"

"Why are you trying to talk me out of it now?"

He sat thinking for a minute, and she could see the wheels turning in his head. She smirked at him, and he finally laughed. "Alright… Let's get going."

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Chriscelia loved David Rossi's house. She liked the masculine feel, that somehow went well with the feminine touchs brought by Hayden, and Joy, and the toys scattered over the living room carpet, left by Kai.

"Why are you smiling?"

"Is that a bad thing," she teased.

"No, just curious."

She looked around again as they followed Rossi to his back porch and lawn. "I like this house. It's a perfect mix of Dave and his biological family."

Reid looked around at the light filled kitchen as they passed through to the double french doors. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It's different from what I remember the first time I was here, eight years ago."

"Stop whispering," Rossi said over his shoulder. "The rest of the team is waiting."

They smirked at each other and found everyone there including, Will, Sam, Henry, Michael, Jack, Hotch and Rossi's family. Reid spied Morgan, Savannah, and Hank and a huge grin broke onto his face. Morgan winked at him and tilted his head at Hotch.

"Go say hello," Chriscelia urged as she took in the one man she'd never met.

"Only if you come with me."

She took his hand and squeezed it tight. He rubbed his fingers over her engagement ring and led her to his former boss. "Hey, Hotch."

Hotch ignored Reid's outstretched hand and hugged him instead. Chriscelia saw the surprise in her fiancé's eyes then he relaxed smiled as he parted from his former boss. "Good to see you, Hotch."

"You too, Reid."

"Hi, Uncle Spencer," said Jack.

"Hello, Jack. How are you?"

Jack seemed to ponder the question, then he said. "Dad said it's safe for us to come home, so I'm fine."

"Good."

"Will you do some magic for Henry and me?"

"I'd love too as long as we invite Michael and Hank."

Jack nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah," he said.

"Go," Hotch urged his former teammate. "We'll talk later."

Reid began to walk away; then he hurried back. "Um, sorry I nearly forgot. Hotch, this is Chriscelia, my fiancée. Celia this is Hotch."

"It's nice to meet you. Reid, show the kids some magic. We're fine."

Reid raised his eyebrows to Chriscelia, and she shrugged. "Go give your fans what they want," she said even as her stomach churned with nerves.

"Well," Hotch said as he turned back to her. "Would you like to sit?"

"Yeah, sure," she said as confidently as she could and followed him to a couple of lawn chairs set up in the shade of a huge Elm tree.

She bit her lip, looked at Hotch then at the back of Dave's house. He didn't speak, and finally, she sighed and said. "Are you going to profile me, too?"

"Spencer's told me all about you. In fact, you're all he talks about when we speak on the phone. You've made him happy." Hotch said ignoring her question.

"He's made me happy, too."

She didn't know what to say next, so she looked at Spencer, who was in the middle of a card trick that had the attention of all the adults and kids.

"He's great with kids, don't you think," Hotch remarked.

"Yeah, he's going to make a great dad someday."

Chriscelia smiled as she watched Spencer play with the boys. He was pulling a card from behind Tara's ear, and this made them laugh and clap.

"You're right; he _will_ make a great dad someday."

"I hope…" Chriscelia trailed off and looked away from Spencer and the kids as they enthusiastically begged for more magic.

"Spencer's happiness is due to you. I hope you know it."

Chriscelia met his eyes, and for the first time, she saw what Spencer meant when he told her about Hotch's glower that could make you confess your darkest secrets. She tried to look away, but it was like trying to break the spell of a snake charmer.

"I'd like to think so," she said breathlessly.

"I also see fear when he looks at you."

She swallowed hard. "Agent Hotchner –"

"No," Hotch said. "Call me Aaron or Hotch. I'm no longer an agent, and I've never been happier to say it."

"Hotch," she said slowly. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"When Spencer looks at you, I recognize the fear because I saw it in Hayley's eyes, more than once, but I ignored it. I lost her in more than one way, and I'll never be able to make it up to her."

Chriscelia looked at her hands. "Don't you think I'm afraid too," she said quietly.

"Yes, but you must understand that Reid's lost so much in his life. I've seen him go through hell, but he always comes back. He won't come back from losing you."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Hotch studied her for a moment then nodded his head. "I can see that, but he doesn't believe it. You need to make him believe it."

"I don't know how." She hissed. "I've tried. What do I do, Aaron? How do I hold on, but not so tightly he slips away from me? I want him to be who he is, but I don't want to lose him."

"You do what I should have done with Hayley, talk to him. Fear is a function of the unknown, Chriscelia. If we understand why we fear, then we can overcome it."

"How?" She asked again.

"By taking each day as it comes, and making him understand that you support him, no matter what."

She sat back and watched Spencer again. Apparently, she'd missed something because the boys had tackled him and were piled on him like sacks of grain.

"Boys," JJ said. "Get off him, before you smother him.

"I love him more than I can express," she said as Spencer stood up and brushed off his clothes.

"That's why I know you'll make it."

She looked back at Hotch and saw only compassion and hope in his eyes. His glower was gone, and now he smiled at her. It changed his face so much she stared. "Did you just trick me?"

"I had to get an honest reaction, Chriscelia. Look, I know there's no easy answer, but there will come a day when Spencer will want to walk away from the FBI and when he does, I want you there to see him through to the next step of his life."

"I will," she said, and it was like swearing a vow.

"Hey," Morgan said as he and Reid walked over to them. "Stop monopolizing the boss man."

"Former, boss man," Hotch said, and Chriscelia grinned at Morgan.

"Fine," Morgan agreed. "Spencer here wants to play poker."

"After we eat," Hotch said with finality. "I think the boys worked up quite an appetite.

Spencer took Chriscelia's hand and smiled. "What were you talking about?"

"Nothing important," she said and considered his chocolate eyes.

Hotch was right, there was fear, deep down in the depths and seeing it cut into her heart and made her stomach churn. No, she would not be the cause of his pain or fear.

"What?"

She blinked and saw only concern and curiosity. "I'm fine. I was just thinking of a mistake I made that I have to correct."

He tilted his head. "A mistake."

"Yeah, I'll fill you in later. Let's get back to the party."

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Two hours later, everyone but Hotch, Jack, Chriscelia, and Reid had left the party. Rossi was talking to Hayden, with Kai asleep on his lap. Joy had gone in the house to call her husband, who'd had to work that night.

Chriscelia talked to Jack, and Spencer sat near Hotch, watching her interact with Hotch's son. "She's great," Hotch said. "All the boys love her, including Jack and he's hard to impress at his age."

"I think it's the fact that she's a best-selling author. He's never met anyone that's a celebrity."

"No, I think it has more to do with her charm. She has a natural ability to make you spill your concerns."

Spencer finally looked at Hotch. "What happened?"

"I'm concerned for you, Spencer. She knows it."

"Hotch…"

"I mean it."

His glower forced Spencer to talk even though he didn't want to discuss the last several weeks. "We're working through some issues. I think the car accident scared her badly. She's afraid, and I don't blame her. I sometimes wonder how much longer I can do the job. I want a real family, Hotch. I love all you guys, but I want my own kids to go home to and a life partner. I want it to be with Chriscelia."

"Then tell her," Hotch said. "Make her believe that you hold her happiness higher than your own and she'll do the same for you. Don't make my mistakes, Spencer."

Spencer saw the flash of grief that still lived in Hotch before his former boss slammed the walls back in place. "I promise," Spencer assured him.

Hotch smiled, and Reid let out a breath. "I know you will."

"Dad," Jack called. "Can we go now?"

"Alright," Hotch agreed and stood. "It is getting late, and he's has school in the morning."

"I'll see you later," Reid said as he got to his feet. Hotch shook his hand, then hugged him hard. "I'm glad you came back," he said.

"Me too. I'll talk to you later. Chriscelia, it was nice to meet you."

"Thank you," she said, and there was true warmth in her eyes. She shook his hand and said to Jack. "It was nice to meet you, Jack."

Jack simply nodded and looked at his dad. "Let's go say goodnight to Dave," Hotch reminded him.

"I'm glad I came," Chriscelia said to Spencer as they watched Hotch and Jack leave. "I liked talking to Hotch."

"Did you?" Spencer said. "I saw you had an intense conversation."

"We did."

"Will you tell me about it?"

She nodded as the sun slipped over the horizon and twilight began its nightly passage through to the darkness that ruled until the dawn.

"I will," she said, and there was something in her tone that said those words meant more than just a promise to relay a conversation.

He smiled, and there was only happiness in his lovely eyes. "Shall we go," he whispered.

"Yes." She agreed and followed him to say his goodbye to the host.


	11. Chapter 11

**_Disclaimer: please see my profile_**

 ** _A/n here's the next chapter. Please enjoy and thank you for your support of this story._**

Spencer opened his eyes to darkness and the sound of someone singing in another room. He blinked, shook his head, and stretched out his arms. "Chriscelia," he frowned when his fingers encountered air, and the fabric of her sheets, instead of her warm body.

He found his fiancée in the kitchen. She wore her headphones and wrote furiously in a notebook as she sang and bobbed her head to the music.

"Turn the radio on, to that sweet sound. Hold me close never let me go. Keep this feeling alive, make me lose control. Baby, baby. When I look in your eyes I go crazy, Fever's high with the lights down low, so take me over the edge, make me lose control."

She looked up and jerked in surprise; then her cheeks went bright red. "Why are you lurking? You scared me." She yanked off her headphones.

"Sorry, didn't mean to, but you're so cute there, writing away and singing that song."

"I couldn't sleep, and I finally have the energy and desire to write, thanks to you."

"Why me?" Spencer wondered as he approached the kitchen table on bare feet.

"Because I'm engaged to the sweetest, kindest, hottest man in existence. You took care of me when I was sick and cranky, and know that I'm well, I feel inspired, and I had to come out here and work."

"It's six am." He pointed out.

"Yeah, I've been out here since five. When the Muse calls, there's no resisting."

"Well then, I think I'll go back to sleep for a few hours. You can work without distraction, and I'll recharge after last night," he waggled his eyebrows at her.

"You're a funny man, Spencer. You're the one that seduced me even though I'm barely recovered from illness. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Spencer rolled his eyes. "I remember it differently. You're the one that jumped on me."

"Your recall is a bit faulty for a genius with an eidetic memory."

"Perhaps, but spending time with you is better than work or thinking about my mom."

"Oh baby," she jumped up and hurried to him. "You haven't spoken much about her in the last couple of weeks."

He hugged her tight and sighed. "I think about her every day, but talking still hurts."

"I know," she looked up at him and smiled.

"Yes, you do. Is it wrong for me to say that I'm glad I have someone that's recently lost a parent and understands how I feel?"

"No, of course not. I envy you, though."

"Why," he wondered as she tightened her arms around his waist.

"Because you and your mom had such a strong bond. My dad and I barely spoke. My mom and I were close, but she's been gone for a couple of years now, and the pain is muted."

"You're saying you want more pain."

"No," she pulled back again and looked at him. "I just want to be able to empathize completely with you, honey. I want you to know I'm here and I understand."

"I do, and I want the same for you." He kissed her gently and smiled. "You're the best."

"Yes, I know," she responded and laughed when he sighed.

"Don't you have another dress fitting today," he reminded her.

She pulled back and shook her head. "Thanks for reminding me. I completely forgot about it."

"Why are you frowning?" Spencer asked as he ran one hand up and down her arm.

"It's my wedding, Spencer. How can I forget a dress fitting? What's the matter with me?"

"Nothing," he assured her with another kiss. "You've been overwhelmed for months, and that's why you succumbed to an infection. Give yourself a break, okay?"

"Alright," she agreed. "I promise to take care of myself from now on."

Spencer grinned at her. "Good, because I want you around for a very long time."

She lightly punched him on the shoulder. "Come on, let's get dressed and start the day. I'll make you your favorite breakfast."

Spencer's eyes lit up, and she laughed. "Sounds good to me."

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Chriscelia watched Spencer dress in what he liked to call his new off-duty attire, jeans, a tee shirt with Cal-tech printed on the front, mismatched socks, and old Converse shoes that looked like they might fall to pieces at any minute. She giggled, and Spencer looked up with sexy, beautiful, and inquiring hazel eyes. "What?"

"Nothing, I love your look."

He looked down at the jeans, which was nearly new and the shirt, which was old, but still in great condition. "I'm glad you like it, but I'll be honest, I'm still not sure about the jeans. I'm more comfortable in slacks or cords."

"Trust me, you look great. I wish you'd wear your shorts, though. You have cute legs."

He sent her a withering look and raked his hands through his wavy, disordered hair. "What happened to accepting me for me."

"I do, my love. I thought you might like to expand your horizons a bit, and you must agree, or you wouldn't have consented to my taking you shopping for new clothes."

He sighed and left his shoulders to drop. "Yes, I agree that I wanted to try something new. I'm just not ready to throw out the old."

"You don't have to. I love your sweater vests and your suits."

"I'm glad you approve," he responded as she smirked at him.

"Come on; we're going to be late."

Spencer frowned. "I don't want to go."

"Why not?"

"Because I know Morgan and Rossi won't quit until they find something ridiculous for me to wear."

Chriscelia bit her lip to keep from smiling. "Honey, they want what's best for you. Now, stop frowning and go. You've put it off long enough."

"Alright," he capitulated. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

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Pam hugged Chriscelia the minute she walked into the bridal shop. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Pam."

Pam pulled back and looked her over. "I've been worried about you. Why didn't you let me bring you my famous chicken soup?"

"I didn't want you to get sick."

Pam shook her head and put her hands on her hips. "I'm your best friend. What did you expect me to do, not worry?"

"Yes, it was just an infection. I'm fine. Geez, between you and Spencer, you'd think I was in danger of dying."

Pam's eyes narrowed. "Don't joke about that," she warned. "We both love you."

Chriscelia nodded and sighed. "I know you do and I'm grateful for all my friends."

"Speaking of friends, Rebecca called, and she's on her way."

"Late as usual," Chriscelia said with a laugh.

"She wouldn't be Rebecca if she wasn't constantly late."

A woman with copper red hair flowing down her back and a light blue blouse with white pants entered from the back with a garment bag in her arms. "Hello," she greeted them in a voice that Chriscelia thought belonged in some tiny seaside village blanketed in fog and wrapped in mystery.

"Hi, Monique."

"How are you? Pam said you were ill."

"I'm fine."

Monique smiled, and her cobalt blue eyes crinkled at the edges. "Well, let's try on the dress and see what needs to be altered."

Chriscelia followed her, and by the time she emerged, Rebecca had arrived. "Oh, honey you look marvelous," exclaimed the tiny woman. Her chestnut colored curls bounced as she spoke.

"Thank you."

"Oh yeah, Spencer's going to love it," Pam agreed enthusiastically.

"Your friends are right," Monique remarked. "You look amazing."

Chriscelia studied her reflection in the mirror as Monique began to make notes in a notebook and added pins here and there.

"I wish I were getting married," Rebecca observed. "You look like a fairy queen," she sighed and didn't notice when Pam rolled her eyes and smirked at Chriscelia.

"It'll be your turn soon enough," Chriscelia responded.

"I don't know," Rebecca frowned. "Jared's dragging his feet on marriage."

"Let's enjoy Chriscelia's wedding, then we can worry about you and Jared."

"Right," Rebecca sighed dramatically. "You found the perfect guy. I'm so jealous."

Chriscelia's eyebrows lifted. "He's maybe perfect, but he's mine."

Pam and Rebecca giggled, and Monique smiled indulgently. "Every bride says the same thing," she remarked as she took her final measurements.

"In Spencer's case, it's true."

After Chriscelia had changed back to street clothes, she waited as the girls tried on the dresses they picked for their roles as bridesmaids. "You want to go to lunch when we're done."

"You read my mind," Rebecca enthused.

It was Pam's turn to roll her eyes as they made their way back to the change rooms. "If I get to pick the restaurant."

"No way," Rebecca countered. "You always pick that place in Mclean that only serves vegetarian. I need something more substantial."

"How do you think I keep my figure."

"I vote with Rebecca," Chriscelia put in. "I'm sure wherever we go, there's at least one vegetarian option for you."

"Alright, I give up."

They met in the front of the store. "Let's go."

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"I'm going to look ridiculous," Spencer moaned as he tried on tuxedo number four."

Morgan smirked as he surveyed his reflection in the mirror. "Pretty boy, if you'd calm down and take a look at yourself, you'd see that we picked the perfect tux."

Spencer sighed and surveyed his reflection in the mirror as salesman hovered around him, flicking off lint from his pants and tugging on the sleeves to align them perfectly.

"Your friend is correct," said the gray-haired man in a dark suit, red tie, and shoes so highly polished they reflected Spencer's face when he looked down. "This selection drapes perfectly from your shoulders and waist."

Spencer rolled his eyes, and Morgan shook his head. "He's right, kid. Chriscelia's going to love it."

"I suppose you're right."

He took a good long look at his choice and found that he liked the effect of the black tuxedo, the collarless white shirt, and the silver vest.

"Alright, at least that's over," he said minutes later when they left the store together.

"You sound as if you just came through the Inquisition."

"Funny, Morgan. I think you're overstating it a bit."

The sun beat down on them and made him wish that he'd taken Chriscelia's advice and worn shorts. Morgan had no trouble wearing shorts, and he didn't seem to be suffering in the heat.

"Come on, kid, let's go get a beer and fish and chips and Smitty's. You'll feel better once we get out of the heat."

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"So, how was your fitting," Spencer asked later.

Chriscelia brought them iced tea and curled up next to Spencer on the couch. "I'll feel better once this is over."

Spencer stroked her hair as she drank from her glass. "It will be in less than five weeks."

"I'm just glad we got the invitations set, and the venue is confirmed."

Spencer sat back and wrapped his arms around his fiancée. "Why don't we take a break from all the wedding talk and do something fun this afternoon, like go to the movies."

Chriscelia smiled up at him. "Only if I get to pick the movie."

Spencer frowned, and Chriscelia chuckled. "I promise I won't make you go to a chick flick."

Spencer shook hands with her as though agreeing to a business deal. "You're on."


	12. Chapter 12

_**Disclaimer: see my profile.**_

Chriscelia stumbled into her bathroom and nearly hit her knee on the edge of the tub. Her stomach clenched, and she brought up all that remained from her late dinner. She sat back wiped at her mouth and panted like a dog in the middle of a sweltering summer day. Nausea that had plagued her since rising jittered in her stomach, but she got to her feet and flushed. After washing her hands and rinsing her mouth, she went back to the empty bedroom.

Spencer was away on a case and had been gone for three days. She sat on the edge of the bed and looked at where he slept every night he didn't have a case or every night they didn't spend in his apartment. She frowned and looked at her phone. It was after eight in the morning… perhaps. No, she shook her head and remembered she'd promised herself not to bother him at work. She'd write while she waited for her friends. Pam and Rebecca were on their way to help her with some last-minute wedding details.

She went to her desk and sat. She looked at her laptop and thought about the notebook that needed to be transferred into a Word document for her second draft. If she could get at least three chapters done before the wedding, she could go on her honeymoon with a clear conscience. She opened her notebook and began to read from where she'd left off after her last session at the computer.

When a knock sounded thirty minutes later, she almost jumped out of her chair. "Calm down," she scolded and went to the door.

"Hey," Pam greeted enthusiastically, then eyed her with narrowed eyes. "You're not dressed."

"Yeah, did we get you out of bed," Rebecca wondered as they entered the apartment.

Chriscelia looked down at her pajamas. "Sorry, I was writing and didn't think."

Pam rolled her eyes. "Well, let's get you dressed so we can check a few things off the wedding to do list."

"Right," Chriscelia turned for her bedroom, and suddenly everything began to spin, and her heart began to pound.

"Chriscelia," she heard from a great distance. "Hey."

She stumbled, and black spots danced across her eyes as she tipped forward and fell to the floor.

"Hey, there you are," Pam said when she opened her eyes to see her friends standing over her.

Rebecca wiped away tears from her cheeks. "You okay. You scared the hell out of us."

"Yeah, I think I'm okay."

She got to her feet and swayed a bit. Pam grabbed her arm and led her to the couch. "What's wrong? You're as white as a sheet."

"Um, well I didn't sleep very well last night, but that's normal when Spencer isn't here."

"Oh, that's so sweet," Rebecca cooed, then lapsed into silence when Pam glared at her.

"Lack of sleep doesn't make you look like the night of the living dead."

"That's funny, Pam. I'm all right."

She tried to stand up but sat again when dizziness made her head feel like it floated above her shoulders.

"When was the last time you ate?" Rebecca asked.

"Last night. I'm not hungry."

"You could be suffering from low blood sugar. My cousin's a diabetic and sometimes if her blood sugar is too low, she passes out."

"Rebecca's right," Pam agreed.

"I'm fine."

"You had strep five weeks ago and now this. You need to go to the doctor." Rebecca observed, and her brown eyes snapped with stress.

"I said I'm fine; it's just wedding nerves."

"What aren't you telling us," Pam asked suspiciously.

"I threw up this morning."

"Only this morning," Rebecca asked as Pam's eyes went wide.

"No, yesterday, too."

"Oh boy," Pam enthused. "Are you late?"

"What?"

"Your period."

"I'm on the pill, Pam, you know that."

"You're pregnant," Rebecca observed. "Come on; we need to get a pregnancy test and confirm."

"I'll go," Pam offered. "You stay with her, Rebecca."

"Guys, I can't be pregnant."

Pam and Rebecca smirked at each other. "Honey," Rebecca said. "You can, and we're going to confirm it with a test."

Chriscelia tried to protest as she felt her heart begin to pound, this time with fear and excitement and the irritation that if it was real, why now?

She watched Pam leave and then let Rebecca force her to lie on the couch. "You stay here. I'm going to see what you have in the kitchen. You need to try to eat something."

"I'm not hungry."

"You nauseous?"

"Not right now, but what if I eat and it doesn't stay down."

"Don't worry. I'll find something. If not, then we'll go to the market."

Fifteen minutes later, Pam returned with two pregnancy tests. "I figured we should do both just to be safe."

Chriscelia eyed the pink and white boxes, then burst into tears. "I can't believe this. I'm supposed to be getting married in four days. What am I going to do? Spencer's going to freak out."

"No, he won't," Rebecca soothed. "He's the sweetest guy I've ever met. He's going to be thrilled."

"I'm not so sure about that. We're not even married yet, and I could be having a baby. It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

"Chriscelia, it's going to be okay. You have to trust that Spencer will be happy. You're the one that said he wants to have kids."

"Yeah, and so do I but not so soon. I can't handle this right now."

"You can and you will," Pam hugged her. "Chriscelia Moore – soon to be Reid – you're the strongest person I know."

"Yeah," agreed Rebecca. "Now, let's confirm it before you freak out."

Chriscelia jerked the test from Pam's hands. "I have news for you. I'm already freaking out!"

Pam only smiled at her and pushed her with her hands. "Stop stalling, mommy."

Chriscelia narrowed her eyes at her best friends. "I can still take you down."

"We know, just go."

Several minutes later, Chriscelia came back to the living room with shaking hands and a swirling head. It was as though her world changed in an instant and nothing would ever be the same again.

"Look," she showed them. "You're right."

That's so great," enthused Rebecca. She jumped up and down in the strappy sandals she wore with a colorful sundress and a beaded necklace around her neck.

"Yeah, it's wonderful news," Pam agreed.

"Is it? What if Spencer's upset?"

"He's going to be so thrilled."

Chriscelia sat on the edge of her couch. "I don't think I can handle this right now. How am I supposed to finish preparing for the wedding, if I'm throwing up all the time?"

"I heard that ginger is great for nausea. We should get you some to add to your tea."

Chriscelia sighed. "I'm going to get dressed, and we're going to do what we planned today, with a stop at the market for ginger."

"You need to call your doctor," Rebecca advised as Chriscelia turned toward her bedroom. "You need to confirm this as soon as possible."

"You're right. I'll call her right now."

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Reid pulled his phone from his messenger bag and dialed a familiar number. He listened to it ring and then frowned when it went to voicemail.

"Hi, you've reached Chriscelia. I can't answer the phone right now. Leave a message, please."

"Celia, call me back as soon as you get this message. I'm worried about you. Love you."

He stuck the phone in his bag and stared out the window of the jet as it made its way through the darkness of night to home.

"Didn't mean to overhear, but is everything all right?" Emily asked as she looked up from her paperwork.

Reid shook his head. "I'm not sure. Chriscelia hasn't answered my calls today. I'm worried."

Emily shrugged. "I'm sure she's fine, Spencer. She's probably busy with the wedding."

The mention of the wedding brought a tiny smile to Reid's face. "Yeah, but she never goes this long without returning my calls, even if it's a text on the run."

"Well, we'll be landing in about an hour. Why don't you skip the paperwork and go home?"

Reid shook his head. "I can't do that."

"You can and you will," Emily ordered. "If you think something's wrong then go see her. You'll ease your mind, and I'll be sure that when you come in tomorrow morning, you won't be distracted."

"Sorry," Reid said and smiled at her smirk.

"I think it's great, Spencer. You've done this job for years without anyone to go home to at the end of the day. Chriscelia's done wonders for your stress levels," she wagged her eyebrows, and he laughed.

"Emily!"

She grinned at the faint blush on his cheeks. "I only mean that she's good for you. You've gained some weight, you don't have dark circles under your eyes, and you're more at ease with yourself. That makes her a miracle worker, in my book."

"I could say the same for you," Reid deflected.

"Nope, we're talking about you," Emily replied.

"I don't like to be the center of attention," Reid complained.

"Yes, I know."

They stared at each other until Emily said. "Want to play poker?"

Reid lifted his eyebrows and cracked his knuckles. "You that eager to lose."

Emily narrowed her eyes at him. "We'll see, magic man."

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Reid unlocked the door to his apartment and hurried inside. He'd take a quick minute to grab fresh clothes, and then he'd talk to Chriscelia. He'd called her again, but she still didn't answer or call back. Fear began to work its way into his stomach and roll there like worms in newly turned topsoil.

He almost ran into his room, then stopped dead in his tracks. Chriscelia lay on his bed, with her earphones in, but sleeping deep. Her hair lay spread out on his pillow, and despite his worry, his body began to respond to the lovely blond curls and the long lashes that lay against her cheeks. Her face was a bit flushed, and he saw that she wore one of his shirts, a sure sign that something was wrong. He drew in a deep breath, tamped down the automatic desire to take her into his arms and love her until they both flew apart like leaves in the wind.

He sat, pushed off his shoes, then lay down next to her. He reached out to touch her face and jerked back when her eyes flew open, and she yelped in surprise. "Spencer!"

She leaped into his arms and before he could question her about her unexpected presence in his apartment, she kissed him and lay her hands in all the places that sent him spiraling out of control.

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Some hours later, she lay in his arms, clutching him tightly as though he might fly away on the autumn wind that wailed around the window in the pre-dawn light. "Chriscelia," he said. "What's wrong? You didn't answer my calls for almost two days, and you're here -not that I mind that you're here – but I don't understand why."

She tilted her head up and her eyes, the blue-green of the sea, the eyes he adored filled with tears. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to worry. I've been here for the last two days because I wanted to sleep in a bed, that smells like you and wear your shirts that feel soft like your hands on my skin."

"Okay," Spencer shifted his hands to her face. "I get that you need comfort, but what I don't understand is why? Did something happen while I was away.?"

"Yes, something wonderful, but I'm so scared that you're not going to like it."

"Why? Talk to me, Celia."

"I don't know where to start. I'm not sure how it happened. We were so careful. We're getting married in three days, Spencer. I don't know if I can and deal with…"

"With what," Spencer asked. "Please just tell me. Are you, all right? Did I do something? Do you want to call off the wedding because if you do –

"I don't want to call off the wedding, baby." She wiped her eyes and finally smiled. "I'm pregnant."


	13. Chapter 13

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

Adrenaline bubbled into Spencer's blood, and his heart pounded so hard his head began to spin. A hundred emotions flooded him at the same time, terror, elation, insecurity, and joy, and more.

"You're pregnant," he managed to say without squeaking.

"Yes!

He wiped away the tears on her cheeks and kissed her. "I can't believe it."

She pulled away from him and sat up. "You're not angry."

" _Why_ would I be angry?" He pushed up to a sitting position and took her hand. "I love you, Chriscelia Moore and I _love_ our baby."

Spencer put his free hand on her belly. "Hi baby, I'm daddy. I already love you, little one. Stay safe inside mommy until you're ready to come out and meet the world. Oh, Celia, I'm _so_ excited to meet our baby."

Chriscelia stared at him as more tears flooded her eyes. "You're amazing," she gasped. "I love you so much right now. You have no idea."

She was wrong. If she had one hundredth of the emotions that stormed through him in that exact moment… Well, he didn't know how she could bear it.

"I think I have some idea," was all he could say.

"Thank you."

"Why?" The gratitude in her beautiful eyes stunned him into confusion. Why thank him for something wonderful like a new baby. He should thank her instead.

She bowed her head so that she didn't have to look at him. "I was afraid you'd be angry because it's my fault this happened."

 _Angry with her. Why?_

"Hey," he responded as gently as possible because the lack of eye contact chilled his heart. " _Look_ at me, Celia."

She considered the eyes she loved and saw only happiness and some concern in their chocolate depths. She hitched in a breath and swallowed hard as he reached out and ran a hand through her hair.

"I'm not angry with you, and if you remember basic biology, you know that it takes two to make a baby."

She rolled her eyes, and finally, laughed. "Yes, I remember."

"Then I don't understand why you think I'd be mad."

"We had this plan," she reminded him. "We'd get married, and I'd finish my book, and then I'd stop taking the pill, and we'd begin trying."

"Chriscelia, I'm not angry because our lives aren't going as planned. I'm _beyond_ happy that I'm going to be a father. It's what I've wanted for years. You're giving that to me, so I'm not upset, okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"I'm happy, too, but scared," she admitted. "I'm not sure how to be a mom."

He tugged her into his arms. "You are going to be an _amazing_ mother," he assured her.

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you," he reminded her. "You're going to approach it the same way you do everything, with passion and energy. You'll probably outdo me when it comes to researching baby care."

She giggled. "I don't think that's possible, Mr. Eidetic Memory.

Spencer rolled his eyes. "The point is that we're going to survive, and more than that, we're going to thrive, all three of us."

She put her hands on her stomach. "I still can't believe it's real. I _am_ excited."

"Now, tell me the real reason you thought it's your fault."

She surveyed his chocolate eyes that made it impossible for her to hedge the truth. "I hate profilers," she said, and he began to laugh.

"It's not funny!"

"I'm sorry."

She sighed. "Sure, you are."

He only lifted his eyebrows and continued to stare at her. "All right, I'll spill my guts."

"It's easier when you don't fight me."

Chriscelia rolled her eyes. "You're a funny man, Spencer Reid. A couple of weeks before I got sick, I had an appointment with Dr. Osorio."

"Yeah, you told me it went well."

"After the appointment, I went to the market, and in the pharmacy aisle, I found St John's Wort. The label said it was a natural mood enhancer. I decided to try it, and it worked well. I didn't know until I went to see the doctor two days ago and confirmed I'm pregnant that it can interfere with the Pill."

"That's true, but if I'd been more careful about wearing a condom, you wouldn't have to worry about a supplement."

"You're _always_ careful," Chriscelia argued.

"Except for right after your illness. Remember that night?"

Chriscelia nodded. "Yes."

"I didn't think that night because I was happy you were better. I guess I thought that one time wouldn't make a difference. So much for my genius brain. I was thinking like a teenager instead of an adult."

"I guess that means we're both a fault," Chriscelia decided.

Spencer smiled and shook his head. "I think we're the luckiest two people on earth. We love each other, we're getting married, and we're going to have a baby."

She snuggled into his arms. "I'm still scared, Spencer."

"I know, but don't worry because I'm here."

"I love you."

"I love you too. If you're done wallowing in guilt, let's celebrate.

"I _wasn't_ wallowing," she defended then laughed as he smirked at her. " _Oh_ you, I'll get you for that."

He moved to kiss her, but she turned her head away. "Excuse me, but I know that look, and we already celebrated."

"Yes, but I didn't know we were celebrating. I thought you were upset and I was comforting you."

"Oh, poor baby," she mocked.

"Celia," he whispered, and his eyes began to darken. "Don't say no! I want you _so_ much."

She grimaced, put a hand over her mouth and shot out of bed. She ran to the bathroom and slammed the door.

Spencer pushed out of bed and went to the bathroom. He tapped lightly on the door. "Celia?"

She didn't respond, but he figured she was prevented by the inevitable process of morning sickness he plainly heard through the door. He winced and wished for a way to make it stop.

"Celia, can I come in?" She didn't answer so he decided to wait and give her the privacy she needed.

A long time passed before he heard the toilet flushing and water running in the sink. "Can I come in," He asked again.

"Yeah."

He entered and found her looking at her reflection in the mirror. "Sorry, not very sexy."

"Hey," he pulled her into his arms. "You'll _always_ be sexy to me."

"I hate morning sickness."

He chuckled. "I'd think you a _little_ strange if you enjoyed vomiting."

Chriscelia put her head on his chest. "Thank you."

"For what?" Spencer led her back to the bedroom.

"For everything you do for me and all the love you give me. I don't know what I did to deserve you."

"I can say the same about you.

Chriscelia pulled out of his arms. "I'm going to make some tea with ginger. You want coffee."

"Yes, but I'll make the beverages and something light for breakfast. You need to eat."

"I'll try," she promised.

"Now go back to bed," he urged. "We'll celebrate with breakfast in bed, and then I want you to try and get a little more sleep, okay."

"I can't Spencer. I have too much to do today."

"I can handle anything on the wedding to do list. Please promise me you'll get more sleep."

"I promise."

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"Spencer?"

"Hm," he looked up from the book he read on child care.

She smirked because after breakfast in bed, and after she'd fallen back to sleep, he'd gone to the library and stocked up on baby and childcare books. It wasn't surprising, but it was cute.

"What are we going to tell our friends and the team. I'd like to wait until I'm past the first trimester, but with the wedding and our bridal and bachelor parties, I don't know if we can keep it a secret."

He lay aside his book and gave her his attention. "It's up to you," he decided. "I'll support what you want."

Chriscelia fidgeted with the laptop across her work tray. "I think we should tell everyone. You work with profilers and Pam and Rebecca already know."

"All right, then I'll tell the guys at my bachelor party," she laughed when he grimaced.

"Babe, I know you're not looking forward to it, but I'm certain it'll be fun. Morgan knows you, and he knows what you enjoy. I'm sure he's planned something fun for you guys."

"I know, it's just that I _hate_ to be the center of attention."

"We're alike in that way," Chriscelia observed. "It's classic introvert behavior."

Spencer nodded then sighed. "I'm sure I'll get through it."

"What's bothering you?" Chriscelia reached over and slid her hand up and down his leg.

"Now who's playing the profiler."

"Spill!"

"I don't want you to go stay with Pam the night before the wedding."

"It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding."

"Come on, Chriscelia. You can't possibly believe that just because of an old superstition, you think we have to sleep apart."

"Don't whine, my darling. It's tradition. You'll survive."

"I don't want to feel like I'm concluding a business transaction."

"What?"

"In olden times, when most marriages were arranged, the groom wasn't allowed to see the bride for fear he'd find her unattractive and try to back out of the marriage. The reason you wear a veil also goes back to that tradition of not seeing the bride until it was too late to call it off."

"Well, _that's_ romantic!"

Spencer smirked at her. "In those days people rarely married for love. A man wanted his daughter to have a rich husband so she'd have someone to take care of her."

"I don't need money," Chriscelia pointed out.

"And I love you. I've already seen you so what's the point of it all."

She studied him and fought not to let his puppy eyes influence her. "All right," she relented. "I'll stay here with you."

" _Yes,"_ he punched his fist in the air.

"But, if disaster strikes, it's _your_ fault, mister."

"It's not going to strike," he assured her. He reached over and put his hand on her belly. "Isn't that right, little one. Mommy is paranoid."

"Ha," she said and shook her head. "Your father is crazy," she put her hand on top of Spencer's, "but I love him anyway."

"I'm glad you said that," he mused and kissed her.

"Go away," she said when he let her breathe. "I need to finish this last email and send off my chapters to my publisher. Then, we can have the wedding and the honeymoon without worrying, although I don't know how much fun it will be with my nausea in the mornings."

"I don't care. I'll hold your hair if I have to," Spencer said confidently.

"Thank you," Chriscelia reached over and touched his hand.

"You're welcome."


	14. Chapter 14

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

 ** _A/n thanks again to all my faithful readers, and those that continue to review. Also,_** a big ** _thanks to my beta REIDFANATIC, who continues to keep me on track. Please enjoy_**

Chriscelia blinked in surprise when she stepped into JJ's living room. "Wow!"

Pink and white met her at every turn as her friends greeted her enthusiastically. Streamers and balloons festooned every surface in the room. Despite the overabundance of two colors in one space, the festive nature of the scene calmed her nerves, and she smiled with true excitement.

Pam hugged her and with Rebecca at her side led her to the middle of the sofa. They sat her down, and Garcia approached wearing a tiara on her head. Instead of making her ridiculous, it enhanced the pink shrug she wore over a white, scoop neck top, and a pink skirt made billowy with white petticoats. Her shoes were strappy and clear plastic so that Chriscelia could see the pink and white flowers painted on her toes over a coat of silver polish. The same theme carried to her fingertips and matched the pink lipstick and silver glitter on her eyelids. "My Queen," Garcia greeted, solemnly, and placed a crown, made from paper, and decorated with colorful jewels on Chriscelia's head.

"What is all of this?" Chriscelia wondered.

"We were going to take you to a bar and get you drunk, but Pam said you wouldn't enjoy it."

"So, we decided to go with plan B," Rebecca explained. "Pam told Penelope that Sleeping Beauty is your favorite fairytale, so we decided to go with a princess's theme."

Chriscelia met her friend's eyes and nodded slightly. "Well, guys," she began as Emily, Tara, JJ, and Rebecca perched on the sofa and chairs around her. They all wore similar outfits as Garcia, the theme obviously leaning toward princesses. "I have something I want to tell you, and then you'll thank Pam for keeping this low-key."

"What is it?" Garcia wanted to know, her eyes going wide. "Did you and Spencer fight? If you did, I could talk to him."

"Pen," JJ interjected. "Let her speak."

"Right! Sorry."

"No, we didn't fight, although we're suffering from extreme nerves about tomorrow."

"Why? You guys are solid," Rebecca assured her friend.

"Yes, we are, but it's just the thought of spending your life with someone."

JJ nodded in sympathy, while Emily and Tara looked at each other. "We're glad everything's solid," Emily observed. "I've never seen Reid as happy."

"It's true," Tara put in while she adjusted the tiara perched on her head. "He's settled, happy and he's gained some weight. It looks good on him."

"Are you checking out my fiance," Chriscelia accused with a smile.

"Can't blame her," JJ said. "He's looking _good_ these days, more confident and we're not the _only_ ones that noticed."

"I don't mind if you look, just _don't_ touch." She warned seriously and made her friends laugh.

"What did you want to tell us?" Tara inquired.

"Yeah," Garcia agreed. "I'm dying of curiosity."

"There's no way, but to just say it. If you spiked that punched over there," Chriscelia indicated the cut glass bowl of red punch on a long side table full of goodies. "You'll have to dump it. I can't drink."

"Why not?" chorused Garcia, JJ and Emily."

"I'm pregnant."

Silence descended for a few seconds and then everyone began to talk at once, but for Pam and Rebecca, who took turns hugging her.

"I'm so happy for you," Tara said.

"Me too," JJ agreed with a grin. "I'll bet Spence is over the moon."

"Yeah, my gorgeous gray matter's wanted to be a daddy for a long time."

"That's what he said," Chriscelia put in. "He said it's something that he's wanted for years."

"And yet, I sense something's off," Emily added.

"I told Spencer I _hate_ profilers."

The ladies smirked at each other. "You better tell us," JJ advised.

"It's fine; I just wish the timing were better, that's all."

Rebecca hugged her tight. "I believe everything happens for a reason."

"Me too," Garcia agreed and high-fived Rebecca.

Chriscelia rolled her eyes. "I want to get married without worrying I'll vomit on the guests."

"I have just the thing for you," JJ said and rose to her feet. "Ladies, let's start with a little music and some food. I'll be right back."

"I'm not sure I should eat anything," Chriscelia looked longingly at the ham and cheese rolls, the salad and the cookies.

"Why not just try some of the salad for a start," Pam suggested. "It's spinach with bacon crumbles and hard-boiled eggs. You know it's your favorite, and I made my famous pomegranate and passionfruit vinaigrette."

"I'll try," Chriscelia said over a rumbling stomach. She'd eaten very little all day and was starving.

"I found it," JJ called triumphantly from another room. In a minute she joined them and held up what looked like a bracelet.

"No offense, but how is _that_ going to help.

JJ simply took Chriscelia's right arm and put on the bracelet. "It has a bead the presses against the exact pressure point on the wrist that controls nausea."

Chriscelia inspected it suspiciously. "I'll try anything," she relented.

"Good, then it's time for games, and then we're going to have cake," Garcia directed.

Tara and Emily looked at each other as Pam and Rebecca began to set up the games. At the same time, someone knocked on the door.

"Who's that?" JJ wondered.

"Let me get it," Tara offered.

Less than a minute later Tara returned accompanied by a tall, dark-haired and blue-eyed man dressed as a police officer. Chriscelia's eyebrows lifted as he was the best-looking cop she'd ever seen.

"Are you Chriscelia Moore," he asked as he pulled handcuffs from his belt.

"Yes," she said, and her heart began to thump. She looked at Emily, but Spencer's boss stared at the cop, along with all her friends.

"You're under arrest, Ms. Moore."

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"I can't believe you pulled this off," Spencer said for the third time since they'd arrived at the scene of his bachelor party."

"Reid," Hotch warned sternly. "The show's starting in _five_ minutes. Relax."

"Yeah, pretty boy," Morgan put in as Alex smirked from his chair next to Rossi. "Relax and enjoy it."

"But this is Sean Silver. His show's been sold out for weeks."

"You're telling me," Will drawled from his seat next to Hotch. "I tried to get tickets for the family because Henry won't stop talking about him."

"How would you know? Rossi asked. "Did you think you'd come to the show without your pals on the night of your bachelor party?

Reid decided to look at the stage instead of Rossi, who laughed. Hotch grinned, and Morgan shook his head. "I know," he said in answer to Reid's original question. "A strip joint isn't your thing, and then Alex suggested Sean Silver's Spectre Spectacular."

"He's got this awesome new illusion he's setup based on Edgar Allen Poe's, 'The Pit and the Pendulum.' It's going to be… Um, well awesome."

"Good to know that Alex had the right idea." Rossi and Morgan smirked at each other.

"Yeah, thanks, man," Spencer said as he surveyed all the people around them, who seemed to be as excited as he was to see the famous young illusionist in action.

"You're welcome."

"Now, can we _please_ sit back and enjoy the show," Rossi wanted to know as Hotch grinned at him.

"All right, I get the hint," Spencer agreed and sat back in his chair, eager for the magic to begin.

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"Under arrest," Chriscelia protested. "but I haven't done…."

She realized that someone had put on music, and it was the bump and grind variety. She didn't know the title, but all thoughts of protest died on her lips as the cop – or stripper - began to dance. She failed to notice her friends cheering him, whooping and clapping. He gyrated his hips as he removed his shirt and winked at her. She couldn't take her eyes off him once his six pack abs and amazing pecs filled her view.

Her cheeks flamed when he tore off his breakaway pants, and all she saw were well-toned legs, slim hips and other "attributes," that made her realize she shouldn't stare, but couldn't help it. She didn't notice that the other ladies still whooped and cheered because he had only eyes for her.

When the music ended, she felt like someone coming out of a dream. The "cop," reached down and took her hand. He kissed it like a gentleman despite his state of undress. "Congratulations on your wedding," he said, and his voice was like smoke.

She sat in stunned disbelief until he was gone and Pam poked her in the shoulder. "Hey, wake up."

"What was _that_?"

" _That_ was a naked man in my living room," JJ said. "Um, we do _not_ tell the guys, agreed."

They agreed, and all of them, except for Tara, appeared stunned by the experience. "Hey," JJ confronted Tara after several seconds of silence. "Why aren't you surprised?"

"Because I know him," Tara said.

"You do," they all chorused.

"Oh, _do_ tell," Rebecca begged.

Tara shook her head. "Let's just say I helped him out of a jam once, and he's grateful."

The general uproar over her refusal to talk finally died down as Tara sat serenely weathering the storm of questions fired her way.

"Well, I'd say games are a bit of an anticlimax," Garcia blurted out, then went tomato red.

"No pun intended," Chriscelia responded.

After a second of more silence, they all laughed, and it was like the hysterical laugh of someone under a spell.

"Come on," Emily said. "Let's pull ourselves together and have cake."

"I think that's the best idea I've heard so far," Pam said and began to distribute slices of the yellow cake with chocolate frosting she's ordered from "Only Cakes," Chriscelia's favorite and the same caterer that made the wedding cake.

"You know me too well," Chriscelia enthused. "This is great. I hope I'll be able to keep it down."

"Chriscelia," JJ said after a bite of cake. "I found an article online when I was pregnant with Henry. It said if you're experiencing morning sickness and you're concerned about proper nutrition, to drink Pedialyte."

"Isn't that for kids," Chriscelia asked, confused.

"I talked to my doctor, and she agreed with the article.

Chriscelia studied her slice of cake. "I'll talk to my doctor. Thanks, JJ."

"So, how is Reid coping? Tara asked. "Or I should say, how are you coping with Spencer. I'll bet he's reading everything there is to know about baby care."

Chriscelia nearly choked on her cake because she couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my god, yes. You should have seen the stack of books he brought home from the library. I couldn't help myself, and had to tease him about leaving something for other fathers to read."

"I'll bet he didn't think that was funny."

"No, he got that look in his eyes, you know the one I call the puppy-eyed expression."

"I _hate_ that," Garcia and JJ complained together. "It's like watching a tiny animal in the rain.

"So I said I was sorry, and left him to it. I'm reading some of the books, and they're quite informative."

"Not you too," Pam groaned as Rebecca and Emily laughed.

"Yep, my man may be obsessive when it comes to babies, but he's the best man I know."

"Aw," Garcia cooed.

The other's rolled their eyes, and Chriscelia laughed. "So, what next?" She asked.

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Reid pulled on a tee-shirt with his pajama pants and climbed into bed. He immediately curled up with Chriscelia who smiled at him. "So, how was the party," she asked as she brushed her finger through his wavy and mussed hair.

"It was awesome," he enthused.

"Good, I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"They took me to see Sean Silver."

Chriscelia blinked. "Isn't he your _favorite_ illusionist?"

"Yeah. He debuted a new illusion based on "The Pit and the Pendulum."

"Nice," Chriscelia enthused. " _Now_ I'm jealous."

He smirked at her. "Don't pout; it sets a bad example for the baby." He warned as he put his hand on her belly.

"The baby is the size of a grain of rice," Chriscelia reminded him. "He or she, can't possibly understand us."

"I know, but I figure why to wait to start."

"Babe," she touched his face and traced his lips with her fingers. "You're going to be the best father in the world. Don't worry so much."

"I just want our baby to know that I love them."

"We _know_ ," Chriscelia assured him.

"I hope so because I love you both so much it hurts."

"I'm glad because we _need_ you."

Reid shut off the lights, and they snuggled up together. "So, you never told me about your party."

Chriscelia bit her lip to keep from laughing and never was so glad that the lights were out so that he couldn't see her and drag out the secret of the stripper. "It was fun. They made me wear a crown."

"A crown?"

"Yeah, it was a Princess theme. Garcia and JJ wanted to take me out and get me drunk, but Pam stopped them."

"Well, that's good. Remind me to thank her."

"Now, tell me all about the magic show."

He told her, making it into a grand adventure as his hand remained on her belly, and occasionally he directed his remarks to the baby.

"That's sound so great," Chriscelia said. "Thank you for describing it so well."

"My favorite part was the Pit and the Pendulum escape. Everyone thought he was dead for sure and then he appears unharmed at the end of the trick. I still can't figure out how he escaped."

"Are you going to obsess about it during the wedding, because if you are… I might have to kill Alex and Derek."

"No, I promise that I'll _only_ think of you."

She smirked in the dark. "Come on, magic man. Go to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.

"Yes Ma'am."

 _ **A/n2 Sean Silver is a figment of my imagination.**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Disclaimer: see my profile.**_

Spencer carefully closed his bedroom door and tiptoed out to his living room. He yawned, despite the cup of coffee in his hand. His plan to rise early and make breakfast for Chriscelia was moving along smoothly. He'd put together a light meal of juice, and a fruit parfait with a bit of her favorite Greek yogurt. He hoped she'd be able to keep it down.

His cell phone beeped from the table holding his chess set. He picked it up and smiled. "Hi, Dad."

"Spencer, good morning."

"Where are you?"

"I got in late last night."

"I wasn't sure you'd make it."

"I'm sorry I missed your bachelor party and the rehearsal dinner, but my case –"

"If anyone understands the interruptions of work, it's me. I'm just grateful that Emily insisted the team go to stand down until after the wedding."

"It's not an excuse, but I'm not used to suppressing my workaholic nature and making time for my family."

"I wouldn't have accepted it, ten years ago, but I do understand. All I want now is for us to spend time together."

"Me too, son."

"Now that I think about it, why didn't you call me last night, dad? I would've picked you up at the airport."

"I didn't want to interrupt your party or your last night as a single man with Chriscelia."

"Dad, we have to _stop_ walking on egg shells around each other. Next time, you call me. Okay."

William chuckled a little. "You're a wiser man than me, Spencer."

"No, I'm just a man that wants his father around, especially now."

"Why?" William inquired, "I mean besides the obvious. I can hear something in your voice."

Spencer sighed and sat across from his chess set. He picked up the white queen and smiled. "I wanted to tell you in person, but – well, here goes. Dad, you're going to be a grandfather."

Spencer heard a sharp intake of breath, and then silence. "Dad!"

"Sorry, you surprised me. Spencer, that's wonderful."

"Thanks, Dad. I'm excited."

"I'm thrilled for you, son. How's Chriscelia?"

"She's great, dad. A little down that she has to deal with the wedding and morning sickness, but otherwise, she's over the moon."

"Your mother was lucky," William said. "She didn't have morning sickness with you."

"I'm glad to hear it considering her other challenges."

William sighed. "I miss her."

"Me too, Dad."

They were quiet until William said. "Look, I know you're busy, son. I wanted you to know that I was able to make it into town and thank you for the hotel room you reserved for me."

"I was hoping you'd make it in. I'm glad I was right."

"I was going to invite you and Chriscelia to Las Vegas in June. I wanted to take you to Lake Tahoe for a couple of weeks, but I think you'll be busy with my new grandchild."

"Yeah, she's due the first week of the month."

"Well, perhaps we can arrange it for another time."

"I'd like that very much."

"Again, congratulations son. I'm happier than I can express."

"Spencer," said a voice to his left.

Reid looked up to see Chriscelia standing in the doorway between the hall his bedroom and the living area. "Hey, Celia. Dad's on the phone."

"Oh, can I say hello?"

"Of course. Dad, Chriscelia just came in, she wants to talk to you."

"I told him," Spencer informed her as she approached.

She raised her eyebrows and took the phone. "Hi, William. It's good to talk to you."

"Chriscelia, call me Dad, _please_."

"All right, Dad." Spencer grinned at her, and she winked at him. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. I called because I'm in town."

"Oh, I'm so glad you made it."

"Me too, especially now that I know about the baby. I'm ecstatic for you two."

"Thanks, dad. I'm happy, and a bit freaked out because of the timing, but I can't wait to have the baby."

"You're going to be wonderful parents."

"Thanks."

"Look, I'll let you go. I know you have a busy morning. I'll see you guys at three, okay."

"All right, dad. See you soon. I'll give you back to Spencer."

She handed her fiancé the phone and watched as he said goodbye to his dad. When Reid pocketed his phone, she tugged him into a hard embrace. "I'm so glad your dad made it. How did you know he would?"

"I didn't, but I took the chance because I believe he truly wants to try and make up it up to me. I'm just glad I still have him."

Chriscelia kissed him gently on a corner of his mouth. "I'm glad too."

"Come on; I made breakfast for you."

She grinned at him. "I think I can eat this morning. So far, no nausea, which I hope is because of this wristband, JJ gave me."

Spencer hugged her again. "That's wonderful. I'm worried about you."

"Don't be. I think I'm gonna be fine."

"Let's have some breakfast."

She smacked him on the backside. "Let's go, _sexy_ man."

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Chriscelia stood in front of the full-length mirror at the far end of the bride's room. She reached up for her hair, only to have JJ stop her. "Don't touch it. It's perfect!"

"Sorry, I'm just very nervous."

"Believe me; I understand how you feel. Trust me when I say that when you see Spencer at the end of the aisle, and he smiles at you, your nerves will drop away."

Chriscelia hugged her friend and turned to survey Rebecca, Pam, Garcia, Emily, and Tara. They all surrounded her like a shield against anything that could hurt her. She put her hand on her stomach and smiled. "I'm just glad your wristband seems to be working. I had an actual breakfast, and I feel great."

"I'm glad," JJ said, sincerely.

"Thanks, all of you for helping me get ready."

"All we have to do is get you into that dress."

"Wait just a minute. William is coming in to see me. I need to talk to him."

As if on cue, someone knocked at the door. Rebecca opened it to find a man who looked a lot like Spencer Reid, only about thirty years older, standing there. "You must be William; I'm Rebecca."

"Nice to meet you."

Chriscelia invited him in and introduced him to Tara, Pam, and Emily. He greeted them all and addressed JJ. "I'm glad to see you and Penelope, again as well.

"I wish our first meeting had been under better circumstances," JJ mused."

"So do I." He turned to the remaining ladies. "I've heard all about the rest of you from Spencer."

"Not all of it's true," Tara said with a smirk.

"Some of it is," Emily put in, and they laughed.

"I'm glad he has friends like you."

"Dad," Chriscelia interrupted as the others looked at each other and smiled. "My father is gone, and my brother couldn't be here. I know this is last minute, but would you walk me down the aisle."

William swallowed hard and tears collected in his eyes. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

"Yes. I know you and Spencer have had your differences and I know you can't make up for lost time, but you've been so kind and loving to me. You treat me like a daughter, and I love you for it."

William stepped in and hugged her tight. "You don't know how much that means to me. My son has indeed chosen well."

"Does that mean you'll step in as father of the bride."

"Yes, I'd be profoundly honored, Chriscelia."

"Thank you." She kissed his cheek.

"Now, it looks like you need to finish dressing. I'll go outside. Let me know when you're ready."

"I will."

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Spencer avoided the mirror in his dressing room. He wondered why churches insisted on mirrors for grooms and brides. Wasn't vanity considered a sin?

"Hey," Morgan said as he adjusted his vest. "Stop fidgeting."

"Stop treating me like a kid, Morgan. I'm fine."

"If you were fine," Morgan continued. "I wouldn't _need_ to treat you like a kid."

They stared at each other as Rossi and Hotch watched them with identical smirks. "Break it up, you two," Hotch ordered. "If you don't stop snarling at each other, I'll call in Garcia."

Morgan chuckled, and Spencer rolled his eyes. "All right, we'll behave." They said in unison like kids in class.

"Hmm, it appears that your authority still reigns supreme, even though you're not the boss anymore," Rossi observed.

"I can include you in the threat," Hotch shot back, and the two men faced off.

"Hey, I thought we were supposed to be sniping at each other," Spencer interrupted.

Rossi shook his head as the others laughed. A few minutes later the door opened, and Will came in with Henry. "He wants to talk to you, Spencer. Alone, if that's all right with you."

"Sure."

Reid shut the door behind the guys and turned to his godson. "What's wrong, bud."

"Uncle Spencer, my stomach feels funny."

"It does. Why don't we sit in these chairs by the window for a minute?"

He led his godson to the chairs. He smiled because Garcia had found his Henry a child size tuxedo with matching shirt and vest the same silver sheen. He looked extremely grown up, and it made Spencer feel happy but also sad.

"Now, tell me what's wrong."

"I don't want to be the ring bearer, Uncle Spencer."

Spencer studied Henry and thought for a moment. "Can I tell you a secret, Henry. You have to _promise_ you won't tell anyone."

Henry nodded his head. "Yes, sir."

"I'm very nervous about going out there and standing up in front of all those people to make an important promise."

"What kind of promise?"

"I'm going to promise Chriscelia that I'll always love her, that I'll do my best always to be kind, and supportive, and to listen. I'm going to promise that I'll try never to be mean to her or treat her badly. I have to do that with _all_ my friends and family as witnesses."

"What's a witness?"

"It means that you saw or heard, something important and you willing to swear that it happened."

"Oh, will I have witnesses too, Uncle Spencer?"

"Well, there will be people watching you, but they're your family too, they'll never laugh at you or make you feel bad. They just want you to be a part of my special day, and so do I, but if you don't feel like you can, I'll understand. Sometimes when we get nervous, it can make us feel sick. Perhaps we can help each other feel better. What do you think?"

Henry seemed to consider this for a few moments. "I don't care about witnesses, Uncle Spencer. I want to help you."

"Are you sure?"

Henry got out of his chair and hugged Spencer. "I'm sure."

"Thank you, Henry. Now, find your dad. It's almost time to start."

"Okay," Henry said and hurried out of the room.

Rossi was the first to come back in after Henry left. "The kid looks better," he commented as Morgan walked in behind him.

"Which one?" Morgan asked with a laugh.

"That's hilarious," Spencer said irritably.

"What _did_ I say?" Hotch put in from the doorway.

Rossi laughed, as Morgan and Spencer squared off, again. Then Morgan stepped forward and embraced his friend and brother. "Come on; it's time to get married."

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William entered the bride's room when JJ stuck out her head and gestured to him. Chriscelia turned away from the girls and smiled tentatively. "You think Spencer will like it."

William studied the dress and smiled. "He's going to love it. You look beautiful."

"Truly."

"Yes. Come, take my arm."

She took his arm, and they left the bride's room with Pam and Rebecca in their bridesmaid's dresses. JJ, Emily, and Tara were already seated in the audience with the rest of their family and friends. Henry stood with a white, silk and lace pillow, which had two wedding bands tied with silver ribbons. Pam's little five-year-old niece, Harriet, wore a pink, lacey dress and carried a basket with violets. She ran to her aunt and hugged her.

"Hey there, Harriet. You ready to go down the aisle. Just like we practiced, okay."

The little girl nodded and smiled. "Yes, Aunt Pammy."

"Good. Let's go."

Chriscelia nervously plucked at her dress as they lined up at the doors to the chapel. William gently touched her cheek. "It's going to be okay."

She drew in a deep breath and nodded her head. "Yeah… It's going to be fine."


	16. Chapter 16

_**A/n Here is the chapter you've been waiting patiently for. Thank you for your kind reviews and thank you to all who've added this to their favorites or are following the story.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: see my profile**_

Spencer stood at the altar with Garcia. Dave, Luke, Tara, Emily, and JJ sat on the side of the church reserved for family and friends of the groom. With them sat, Hayden, Savannah, Will, Michael, and Hank. Also in the congregation, gathered his friends Ethan, Jack, Kate, and Chris Callahan with their daughters, Meg, and Julie. He spotted Alex Blake and her husband, and even Agent Anderson with a date, a woman he'd never met. He wished Gideon, his mom, Steven, and Elle were there, as well.

The doors opened at the back of the room, and music, the same tune played at most weddings began to swell from the organ. Reid smiled as a tiny girl with skin the color of light coffee, black curly hair, and huge brown eyes came in in a cute pink dress. She scattered lovely purple and white violets down the aisle. He heard people whispering, and they were all smiling at the child.

Next, Henry came in carrying his pillow with the rings. He walked very carefully, with his head up and staring at Spencer as he came. Spencer watched him and grinned widely as the boy met him. "Nice job," he whispered.

Henry nodded, and they turned to watch as Pam came in on Hotch's arm, then Rebecca with Morgan. They wore matching dresses of a silvery material that seemed to glow in the late afternoon sunlight that fell through the stained-glass windows of the church.

Then, as the music swelled, Chriscelia entered, and to his great surprise, she was on the arm of his father. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt distinctly light headed as she seemed to glide down the violet strewn aisle.

She looked like a princess in a fairytale. The Ivory silk bodice she wore, fit her body like a glove and left her shoulders bare. The long, taffeta skirt fell in sweeping folds to the floor, and he could see that it had beading and embroidery from the bodice to about halfway down the skirt. She didn't wear a veil. Instead, she wore her blond hair down in large, spiral curls with silver and crystal head band holding it back from her face.

He couldn't take his eyes off her until his father handed her over to him. "Thanks, Dad." He whispered still reeling from the surprise.

His father nodded and stepped back. Chriscelia turned to him and said in a low voice. "Surprise."

He squeezed her hand and turned back to where Garcia stood in place of the minister. "I'd like to thank Reverend Clyde, for allowing me to marry my best friend to the love of his life. Thanks to the Internet, I'm now officially a minister with the Universal Faith Church and certified by the District of Columbia.

"Nice going, baby girl," Morgan teased, and most of the congregation chuckled.

"Hush."

Morgan winked at her, and she went pink in the cheeks. "Ladies and Gentlemen. I'd like to start with a quote I know Spencer will appreciate. Albert Einstein said, "There are only two ways to live, one as though everything is a miracle and the other as though nothing is a miracle."

Reid nodded his head as Garcia smiled at him with tears in her eyes. "I believe that Chriscelia is Spencer's miracle. They met by accident, and if that isn't a miracle, then I don't know what is."

Chriscelia squeezed his hand again, and he looked at her through eyes that were blurry with tears. He smiled at her and drew in a deep breath.

"Spencer and Chriscelia have written their vows to each other. Chriscelia…"

"In romance novels," Chriscelia began in a voice hoarse with emotion. "The hero's described as a knight in shining armor. I have a _different_ idea of what makes a hero. My knight wears armor that's a bit rusted, dinged, and dented. He's bruised, bloody, but not broken. He's tested in battle, and he's overcome. _That's_ the hero for me, one I was lucky to find one dreary day in December. I literally ran into him, and he swept me off my feet. Then he introduced me to some modern-day knights of the round table." She turned to look back at the smiling faces of his team. "Today, more than _ever_ , you showed me what real family does for each other. You love and support each other. Spencer, I _promise_ to love you, to entrust you with my heart, my body, and my mind. I promise to support you in all things and to make you laugh at least once a day."

Spencer gulped, laughed, and swallowed against tears as friends and family chuckled behind him. "I'm not sure I can speak as eloquently as you, Celia, but I'm not the writer in this marriage. When I met you, I was at my lowest point. You _saved_ me, from despair, and loneliness. You've been my strength, my hope, and my newest, greatest love. You stood by me when mom died, and you've taught me the value of laughter, especially laughter at myself. I promise to love you, protect you, and support you.

Garcia wiped away tears with one hand and directed at Morgan. "Do you have the rings?"

Morgan nodded to Henry who held the pillow as Morgan untied the rings and passed them to Spencer. Spencer took his ring and gave it to Chriscelia, then waited to slip Chriscelia's ring onto her finger.

"Repeat after me," Garcia said. "With this ring, I thee wed."

"With this ring, I _thee_ wed," Spencer said and slid the band onto Chriscelia's trembling finger.

"Chriscelia, repeat after me. With this ring, I thee, wed."

Chriscelia took Spencer's wedding band in fingers that shook so hard; she had a bit of trouble sliding the band onto his hand. "With this ring," she said in a shaky and tear-filled voice. "I _thee_ , wed."

Spencer swallowed hard and gripped her hand tight. They faced Garcia, who had tears streaming down her face.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's with the greatest of pleasure that I pronounce Spencer and Chriscelia are man and wife. _Kiss_ her," she commanded Reid as the congregation laughed.

He kissed Chriscelia, and her knees nearly buckled as a relief, as happiness washed over her like the ocean tide. He pulled back, and she winked at him. He wiped away a tear and put his hand on her belly. "Mom and Dad are married little one."

The congregation rose once more to its feet as they walked back up the aisle. At the back of the chapel, he stopped and kissed her again, much to the delight of those present.

"Love you, Mrs. Reid."

"Love _you_ , Dr. Reid."

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Spencer drove his car up to Rossi's home and parked behind JJ and Will's SUV. "You ready for this."

Chriscelia clenched his hand. "Are you kidding? We're married, and now it's time to party."

He shook his head and laughed. "All right, wife. Let's go."

They left the car and were halfway up the walkway to the house when Rossi opened the door. Reid opened his mouth, and Rossi glared at him. " _One_ word, and I'll kick you out of your reception."

"I wasn't going to say anything, but you look great."

Rossi had embraced the theme of the wedding and wore a vintage suit and black shoes and spats, right out of the twenties. He slid his hand along the brim of his hat and then held it out to Chriscelia. "Mrs. Reid, you look lovely."

She'd changed into a black and purple beaded wedding dress. It was flapper style from nineteen-twenty-five. She wore black heels and a head band with a matching ostrich feather. Her makeup was smoky around the eyes and blood red on the lips. Reid wore a suit like Rossi only with a deep purple shirt and matching handkerchief in his coat pocket. He also wore spats on his shoes and a hat.

Rossi led them into the house, and to the backyard, where they found as requested, everyone had changed into attire from the roaring twenties. Al Jolson played on Rossi's sound system, and some of the guests were dancing. Tara and Luke were in the middle of an enthusiastic Charleston when Rossi hollered. "The guests of honor have arrived."

Spencer and Chriscelia looked at each other as the music stopped and everyone turned and began to applaud.

"Guess we're the center of attention whether we like it or not," Chriscelia pointed out.

"I suppose," Reid agreed.

The first to greet them were two men about Chriscelia's age. One was tall, dark haired and handsome with chiseled good looks and a quick smile. His dark brown eyes twinkled as he embraced Chriscelia. "Chrissy," he enthused. "You look _wonderful_ , darling. Just like a princess in a fairy tale."

"Thank you, Josh. It's good to see you."

"And this is your new husband. It's a good thing I'm happily married, Chrissy." He lamented as he looked Spencer up and down.

He gestured back to the second young man, also dark haired, but a bit shorter, with startling blue eyes and a shy smile. "Hi Chris," he greeted Reid's wife with a long embrace.

"Johnny, it's great to see you. How are you?"

"I'm fine," he said with a Virginia drawl. "As you can see, Josh is his extroverted self."

"I embarrass him," Josh rejoined, but John didn't look unhappy with the situation. Instead, he smirked at his husband and took his hand. "He loves to be the center of attention, and it leaves me the chance to do what I do best, observe people."

"It's nice to meet you both," Spencer put in. "I've heard a lot about you."

"I'm not sure that's a good thing," John said as Josh winked at him.

" _Oh_ , I'm sure these two have many exploits to tell."

"Not tonight," Chriscelia took Reid's hand. "In fact, before the party gets started, we have an announcement to make."

"Oh, _do_ tell," Josh encouraged, then he turned to the guests and clamored for their attention. "Ladies and gentlemen. The bride and groom would like to have a moment."

"Some of you already know this," Chriscelia began after an encouraging smile from her new husband. "I'm going to have a baby."

"Chrissy, that's wonderful." Josh hugged her as there was a general uproar from the friends that weren't already in on the secret.

They were whisked into the center of the gathering near the wedding cake and champagne was pushed into their hands. "It's non-alcoholic," Rossi assured Chriscelia.

"A toast to the happy couple." David began. "I know this is the job of the best man, but I'll do it _so_ much better."

Everyone laughed. Morgan shook his head and shrugged at the same time as Savannah smirked at him. "It's true," Morgan said. "No one likes the sound of his own voice better than Dave."

"Cute," said the oldest team member. "What I was _going_ to say is congratulations on impending parenthood and don't screw it up."

"That's a real toast?" Spencer wondered as they others roared with laughter.

"What did you expect, some words of wisdom."

"Frankly, yes."

David clapped a hand on Reid's shoulder. "I've been married three times. What _do_ I know?"

Reid shook his head as Chriscelia giggled. Morgan stepped up and said. "All right, Dave, you had your chance, now it's my turn."

"Take your best shot."

"Spencer and Chriscelia. I think I speak for all when I say congratulations on your marriage and your baby. You two never do anything in the normal way."

"Hey," Chriscelia interrupted.

"Who else would get married three days before Halloween and make the guests dress up for the reception. We wouldn't have it any other way. Spencer," he looked at his friend and brother. "Remember that she's always right and you'll do fine."

The guests laughed again as Spencer rolled his eyes. "Morgan."

"Chriscelia, remember you _can't_ beat him at poker or chess, and he'll probably spend more time at the library than at home."

"I think I want Rossi to speak, instead." Chriscelia pretended to be irritated.

"What I'm trying to say is that if you let each other be who you are, you'll have a long and happy marriage."

"That's the smartest thing you've said all evening," JJ put in.

They toasted the happy couple, and soon Chriscelia was introducing him to a few of her cousins, and she met a couple of his friends from Cal-tech, and Harvard. Chriscelia was in the middle of talking with Alex, JJ, and Tara when the music stopped again, and Rossi said. "It's time for the bride and groom to have their first dance together."


	17. Chapter 17

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

 _ **A/n once again, I'd**_ **like** _ **to thank all my loyal readers. I hope you enjoy the next chapter. For all of you in the U.S., happy Labor Day weekend.**_

Soft, bluesy music played as Spencer and Chriscelia entered the circle of their friends and began to dance. Spencer heard it, but it was like the song of birds, far off in the trees. He didn't feel the autumn crispness in the air. All he felt was the softness of Chriscelia's skin and the beat of her heart against his chest. Finally, his wife, in his arms and close to his heart.

"What are you thinking?"

He looked down into her beautiful eyes. She smiled, and he thought he detected a bit of amusement in her expression. "I think that the entire world seems billions of miles away right now."

"Does it?"

"Yes, all I want is you in my arms, close to me, always."

Her eyes began to glint in the low light of the lanterns spread around them. "I couldn't agree more."

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?"

"For including my father in the wedding. I could see how happy it made him."

"You're welcome. I should be thanking your father. I wasn't sure until he called this morning who'd be there for me. Mark's too stubborn to admit when he's wrong, and – no, we are not going to talk about my brother. I thought I'd ask John to accompany me, but I'm glad I didn't have to."

"It was a wonderful surprise, Celia. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Chriscelia shivered a little and held closer to Spencer. "What is it?"

"I'm a little cold. I left my wrap inside."

"It is chilly out here. You want to go inside for a minute."

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea."

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When Chriscelia returned outdoors, she wore a black shrug around her shoulders that Garcia lent her. Always prepared, her friend, turned minister had thought to bring it because as she put it, an outdoor reception in October didn't equal comfort.

The others didn't seem to feel the chill as they were too busy dancing, laughing, and talking. Chriscelia took a minute to look around and take in the decorations. There were carved pumpkins on bales of hay, lit from within by candles. The slight breeze made the flames flicker and dance, which in turn made the jack-o-lanterns appears as though they were possessed of life. It gave her a delicious chill to observe.

Several small tables sat in a semi-circle around the makeshift dance floor and were covered with black and purple table clothes. Each had tall candles in the middle with garlands of violets and other fall blossoms festooning the cloths.

She looked to her left and saw her wedding cake. Spencer chose the cake. It was chocolate, decorated with an Edgar Allen Poe theme. Each tier showed something from a well-known story. The first bore black ravens, the second black, and red hearts, but they were all cracked down the middle. The third and final tier showed a castle made from ginger bread with a huge fissure running diagonally through it. It appeared to lean heavily to the left, but somehow defied gravity. To one side were a bride and groom, which wored old style clothing from the nineteenth century and made to resemble Chriscelia and Spencer.

She turned to watch the dancers and noticed that several people were sitting down to a late meal Rossi had prepared. When she'd asked him to host the reception and offered to pay for a caterer, he'd given her a look that could freeze blood. He'd said that he could handle the food.

Her eyes sought out her husband and narrowed as she saw he sat at the same table with her cousin Jamie.

"Hey," Chriscelia strode to the table and took a seat next to her husband. "Sorry to leave you alone, babe."

She wrapped a possessive arm around him and smiled at her cousin. "Hello, Jamie. I'm glad you could make it."

" _Are_ you?"

Jamie's low and smoky voice drifted like fog on the wind. She wore a shimmering gold flapper dress with a black head band, a matching wrap around her shoulders, light pink lipstick, and heavy makeup over her blue eyes. She'd added finger curls in her short blond hair, and a light blush on her perfect cheek bones. She was stunning, as usual.

"Of course," Chriscelia replied, coolly. "You're family."

" _Am_ I?"

Trying another tact, Chriscelia asked. "So, where did you come from this time, Africa, Russia, the Antarctic?"

Jamie laughed and ran her finger around the rim of her champagne glass. "Oh, my dear, you're still _so_ dramatic. I guess it's the writer," she directed at Reid with a wink.

Chriscelia bit the inside of her mouth and counted silently to ten. "Drama earns me a great living."

Jamie's eyes narrowed perceptively. "I'm sure it does. This is a beautiful place."

"It's not ours," Reid broke in. "It belongs to a friend."

"Oh, I see. You still living in that little apartment off C street."

"No!"

"Sorry, didn't mean to _insult_ you. That place had a certain… quaint charm."

"Yes, well, I decided I wanted something a little bigger. Tell me," Chriscelia changed topics again. "Where is your darling, Jeffrey?"

Jamie's eyes filled with irritation, but she didn't turn off her hundred-watt smile. "He couldn't make it, I'm afraid. He had a business deal in London. I'm going to meet him there in a couple of days. I'm only here for you, dear."

Chriscelia tightened her grip on Spencer, who watched them like a spectator at a tennis match. "Thank you for coming, Jamie."

"I think I'd better mingle. There are a few people I haven't met. You don't mind, do you, Chrissy."

"No, be my guest. We'll talk later."

"Yes, we will. It was nice to meet you, Spencer."

"What was that all about?" Spencer inquired as Jamie glided away on stiletto heels.

"Nothing at all."

"Then why are you so upset?"

She turned to him and saw that his eyes were full of mirth. "She flirts with everyone, Spencer; you're nothing special."

"You _can't_ be serious," he squeaked. "We just got married."

"She doesn't care. She stole two of my boyfriends when we were teenagers, just to prove she could."

Spencer turned his eyes back to Jamie, who flirted with Luke and Ethan at the same time. "I see what you mean. Chriscelia, you can't believe that I would – "

"No," she laid her head on his shoulder. "No, I don't believe it. I guess it's just old unresolved feelings. I thought if I invited her, I'd see that she's changed, but she hasn't."

"I get it."

"Well, it wasn't a great experiment. It's something I'll have to talk about with Dr. Osorio."

Spencer squeezed her hand. "Let's get something to eat. I can't resist Dave's cooking; then it'll be time to cut the cake."

"Great idea."

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Chriscelia and Spencer posed near the cake as a photographer took pictures of them. It was a shame to cut into such a wonderful and macabre creation, but the taste was incredible.

"This is delicious," Reid enthused as they returned to their table with JJ and Garcia.

"I found the shop through Rebecca."

"Did I hear my name?" Rebecca asked as she approached. "Pay me a quarter."

Chriscelia laughed as the others watched them. "Oh, sorry. It's something we used to do as kids. You hear the other two mention you name, and you must pay for talking about them. It kept us from killing each other."

"Nice," JJ said. "I wish I'd had that idea in high school."

"So," Garcia said. "How are you feeling?" She directed at Chriscelia.

"I'm great. No nausea today. I can't thank you _enough_ for this," she said to JJ.

"You're welcome. I'm just glad it's working for you."

"Me too," Spencer put in. "I was worried about you."

"Thanks, babe, but I don't want you to worry about me, okay. I'm fine."

"Telling Spencer not to worry is like trying to tell the wind not to blow," Garcia observed.

They chuckled, as Reid shrugged his shoulders. "It's true."

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"They look so happy together," Hayden observed as everyone began to gather for the throwing of the bouquet.

"Yes, they do," Rossi agreed. "Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?"

Hayden wore a red dress with a sparkling wrap and matching feathers in her dark hair. "No, but a girl never tires of hearing such things."

Dave smiled as the crowd began to urge the bride to throw her bouquet. "You should be with the single ladies."

Hayden shook her head. "It's for the young ones. Anyway, I don't need superstition, Dave. You and I've been here before, and right now, I want to enjoy what we have."

"Agreed," Dave said and kissed her.

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Rebecca caught the bouquet, but only because Spencer directed Chriscelia which way to toss it over her shoulder. There was a general roar of approval as the lucky bridesmaid held it triumphantly over her head, much to the chagrin of her boyfriend, Jared.

"He looks like he swallowed a tack," Reid said, and Chriscelia nearly choked trying not to laugh.

"I think you're right," she whispered.

"Can we _go_ now?"

"Spencer Reid," Chriscelia chastised. "It's not even eight pm."

"I know, but I want alone time with my wife."

"All right," she gave in because his eyes burned into her like the rays of the sun. "One last turn around the crowd to say goodbye and we're out of here."

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Reid shut the door to his apartment and turned to his new wife. She pounced before he could make a move and the next thing he knew she had his coat off and was tugging at his tie, while he kissed her neck.

"Wait," he pushed away and ignored the irritation in her eyes. "Are you _sure_ about this? You're pregnant, and I don't want to hurt you or the baby."

"Spencer Reid. Take me to bed or face my wrath."

"Yes, ma'am."

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When he opened his eyes, it was about seven in the morning. Three hours of sleep, he thought with a groan, then began to laugh.

"Why are you laughing, husband?"

"I like that," he curled up with his wife, who glared at him out of sleepy eyes.

"You like what?"

"Husband. Say it again."

"Spencer, you're weird."

"Yes, I am, and _proud_ of it."

Chriscelia turned and pushed him over on his back. "Again," he asked in surprise.

"Why are you complaining?"

He rolled them over until he lay on top of her and she felt that he could, _again_. "I'm not complaining, just surprised and delighted, that's all."

"I can't help it if I married the hottest genius on the planet."

He opened his mouth to argue, but she reared up and kissed him instead. He decided that words were highly overrated and sank into her again, and until they both were sated.

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Three hours later, Chriscelia wandered into the living room to find her new husband at the chess board. He wore jeans, a sweater, and thick, mismatched socks. His hair was tidy and combed for a change. He looked delicious, but she restrained the urge to jump him for the sixth time since the wedding.

"What are you doing?" She wondered, unnecessarily.

"Nothing, just thinking."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure. I guess I'm trying to understand my new dynamic, with you."

She sat across from him and studied the board. She moved a black pawn and waited for him to speak, despite the fear in her heart.

Then she looked up and saw that he was grinning at her. "Spencer?"

"Sorry, honey, I couldn't resist." He handed her an envelope which he slipped from under the chess board.

"What is this?"

"It helps if you open it and look." He instructed with eyes that were filled with childlike excitement.

"Funny," she shot back and opened the envelope.

"Spencer," she exclaimed as her eyes widened. "How?"

"I know you said you're happy staying here for our honeymoon, that we agreed we'd save the cost of a new home, but it didn't sit right with me, so I thought I'd surprise you."

"This is wonderful. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She leaned over the chessboard, knocking over a few pieces, and kissed him. "You're the sweetest man in the world, and I love you."

"I love you, too. Come on, let's get packed. We leave early tomorrow."


	18. Chapter 18

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

Spencer pulled back the heavy blue curtain at the window and looked out at sunset dying in the west. The light, mellow, and gold seemed to flow in reverse toward the sun that had nearly sunk below the horizon. The outline of the city skyline surrounded the hotel, and yet seemed apart from it at the same time. The sky, purple at the edges of the golden light seemed like a far away dome over a fairyland. He sighed and drew in a long breath of air perfumed with the violets and roses he'd ordered for Chriscelia.

"Hey," he turned to see his wife approaching from the bathroom.

"Hey," he greeted, and his eyes forgot the beauty of Baltimore at sunset for the beauty of his wife.

 _His wife! How did it happen?_

She took both his hands and squeezed them. "What are you thinking, husband?"

"That I don't quite know how all of this happened. I feel like I'm in the middle of a wonderful dream that's going to end at any moment."

She stepped close, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him until he couldn't think or breathe.

"Does that feel like a dream?"

He stepped back, breathless and tingled from head to toe. "No," he admitted.

"Good, because you're not dreaming. This is _real_ , and we're going to spend the rest of our lives, together."

"I can't wait."

She let go of his hands and went to the window. "It's so beautiful here."

She looked at the view, then turned to survey at the room with its steeply pitched roof, stone walls and huge canopy bed in the corner. A fire crackled and burned in a fireplace big enough to stand in and jewel tone rugs covered the stone floors. A huge, oaken dresser stood near the bed. The only reminder of the 21st century was the flat screen television on one wall, and the modern coffee maker inside the dresser.

"It's strange to be in the middle of the city, and yet this room feels like we're somewhere deep in the woods of Vermont or Colorado."

"It _is_ beautiful, but not as gorgeous as you, wife."

He took in the cocktail length dress she wore of a deep violet hue. The skirt, in the nineteen fifties style, seemed to float around her legs, encased in nude nylons, with matching shoes on her feet. She also wore her hair in a low chignon at the back of her head and the same smoky eye makeup from the wedding. This time her lips matched her dress and her fingernails.

"You're the one that's gorgeous, Spencer Reid. You look good enough to eat."

He wore a chocolate brown suit, a matching vest, a white shirt and a brown and gold striped tie. His shoes were nearly new and polished to a high shine. His pants were long enough to hide the mismatched, oddly patterned socks he loved to wear. His hair, cut for the wedding was combed back off his face, with one wavy lock curled on his forehead.

"Let's not argue about who's the more aesthetically pleasing tonight."

"I love it when you use high dollar words. Knock it off, or we won't make it down stairs.

"I'd be okay with that."

Chriscelia put both hands on her hips and pursed her lips. "I don't think so, Dr. Reid. You're the one that bought the tickets for the show. We're _not_ going to miss it."

Reid pretended a frustrated sigh, then smirked at her. "All right, but we'll pick this up after the show."

"Perhaps," Chriscelia hedged. "Depends on if you behave for the evening."

"Of course," Spencer promised. "This is something I've wanted to see ever since The Edgar Allen Poe Society announced on their website."

"Then, I say we go before we're late."

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The tiny theater seated one hundred guests around a small stage. Every seat had an occupant by the time the Edgar Allen Poe Society of Baltimore began their production of the "The Fall of the House of Usher."

"This is _so_ exciting," Chriscelia whispered as they waited for the curtain.

"Agreed," Spencer replied as he shifted in his aisle seat. "I'm feeling anxious for the lights to go down."

"Me too." Chriscelia reached for his hand and clenched it tight in anticipation.

The roar of voices around them began die away as the lights dimmed and the play began. Spencer trained his eyes on the stage, unwilling to miss anything.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen," began a voice that sounded from the corners of the room. "To the Raven, a theater in the round dedicated to the works of Mr. Edgar Allen Poe. The society would like to thank all of you for being here tonight. Please be aware that you'll see different scenes played in all four corners of the room as well as the main center stage. We hope you enjoy the show."

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"That was so awesome," Chriscelia extolled later, as they sat in a corner booth of a quiet café, waiting for a late supper.

"It was," Spencer enthused. "I liked the scene they did in our section. I've never been that close to actors on stage."

"Yeah, I thought they wouldn't be able to make the house collapsing seem real, but the sound effects were exceptional."

"Now who's used high dollar words," Reid pointed out.

"Hush."

Reid laughed and took her hand across the table. "Are you happy we came?"

"Yeah, I mean it's not far from home, but I wouldn't have it any other way. In a few hours, it'll be Halloween."

"I know," Reid affirmed with great excitement. "I can't wait."

"Tomorrow's going to be even better, I think."

"I think you're right."

Their orders arrived, and they stopped talking long enough to begin their entrees. "This is delicious. How did you find it?"

Reid looked around the room which didn't look like your average diner. Instead, it looked like something out of an old black and white film, with white table clothes, candles, and dark upholstered booths. The food was all comfort food, instead of dishes with fancy names.

"The team's been here for a couple of cases. The local LEOs told us about it."

"Spencer?"

"Hm…"

"Does it bring back bad memories for us to be here?"

"What? _No_." He sighed and took a sip of his water. "I guess it does in a way, but one of the reasons I wanted to come here was to make good memories with you. I don't want to go to a place and think, "Oh yes, I ate there on a case, and all I can think about is the sadness and the waste."

"You sure?"

He studied her eyes and the concern and love in them warmed him to his toes. "I promise. It's fine. Anyway, as you pointed out, it's delicious. Also, it's off the radar, which I love."

"Me too," she agreed and returned to the pot roast, mashed potatoes, and green beans on her plate.

Reid touched her hand. "Thank you for caring, Chriscelia."

"Well yeah, I love you, silly man."

He laughed and stuck his fork into the house specialty, meat loaf with three cheese mac and cheese on the side, and a green salad.

"Good, because I love you too, Mrs. Reid."

"I love to hear you call me that," she sighed.

He laughed again. "I'm looking forward to calling you that for the next fifty years."

She giggled and took a sip from her peach lemonade. "I concur."

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It was after midnight when Spencer rose from their bed after making love with his new wife. He pulled on a robe and went to the window. The moon, about three quarters full shed light across a cloudless, ebony sky. He watched it for a long time, enjoying the play of white light on the floor of their room and around the blinds, before pulling them closed and going to the bathroom.

"Hey," Chriscelia turn and kissed him when he returned to bed. "Where did you go?"

"Just wanted another look at the view. It's so lovely here, even though we're in the city."

"Yeah, it's so pretty," she agreed, and he nearly laughed at the sleep in her voice.

"Hey, go to sleep, wife."

"Yes, sir, husband," she whispered.

He stayed awake for a long time after she drifted off. He couldn't sleep for thinking about how his life had changed and would change in the next seven months. His hand touched her belly, and he spoke quietly to their baby.

"Daddy loves you, baby. _So_ much. I'm excited to meet you. It's going to be a long seven months. Don't worry, though. I'm gonna be careful, and I'm gonna come home to you even if it's not every night. I'll always be there for you and mommy. Don't worry."

He fell asleep in the middle of thinking about what the baby might look like and hope that the next months would fly by so he could meet his child.

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"Where are we going today?"

Chriscelia had heeded her husband's advice and had put on jeans, a sweater, and thick socks with sneakers. He wore a similar outfit, and she thought he looked adorable. "You look good enough to eat," She informed him.

He blushed, and she laughed. "So, where are we going, "she asked again.

"First, to breakfast, and then to the cemetery at Westminster Church."

"Wow, you know how to romance a girl. It's a good thing I like graveyards and that it's Halloween."

"We're going to Edgar Allen Poe's gravesite. There's a tour today, also given by the Society. It's part of the package, remember."

"Oh, right. We'll I can't be faulted for memory problems as we've been up late the last few nights, making out."

"Is that what that was last night. I'm not sure I remember," Spencer teased.

"Oh, you," Chriscelia threw her knitted cap at him.

He smirked at her, then swept her into his arms for a long hot kiss. He let her go, and she nearly collapsed in one of the wicker work chairs. "Wow, I'm not sure I can stand after that."

He held her up, and they laughed. "Come on," he tugged on her hand. "Let's go."

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They stood in front of Poe's gravestone and listened to the EAP Society guide talk about Poe and his mysterious death on October 7, 1849.

"He was found on the morning of October 3, 1849, delirious on the streets of Baltimore," said the guide. "The clothing he wore was not his, and they couldn't find a cause for his condition. The actual cause of his death isn't known. All his medical records and death certificate disappeared."

Reid tightened his hold on Chriscelia as she shivered deliciously. "Weird," she said under her breath, and he nodded his head.

When the guide finished his tale of the mysterious "Poe Toaster," the group attending the tour was instructed they could linger if they liked. The grave monument was at the gate to the city, so they decided to stay.

They walked around the cemetery through the narrow walkways and past the huge Westminster church. Spencer noticed the original burial place of Edgar Allen Poe alongside his wife Virginia and other members of the Poe family.

"It's like a garden," Chriscelia said as they looked around the cemetery.

Fallen leaves covered the grass, and the air was crisp and filled with the sounds of the city just feet away from where they stood. She drew in a breath and sighed. "It smells like fall to me."

Spencer thought about the scent of the leaves on the ground, and for the first time in a long time his mind went back to that night in the graveyard with Tobias Henkel, a gun, and a grave meant for a lonely, skinny, loveless young man. He shivered.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said and smiled at her. "I was thinking about a time long ago when I didn't believe I'd find someone like you to love."

Chriscelia squeezed his glove covered hand. "Stop thinking about the past, Spencer. I'm here, and I'm gonna stay here."

"I know… It's a new chapter for both of us."

They strolled around the cemetery until Chriscelia stopped him. "I hate to cut this short, but I'm feeling a little light headed and tired."

Spencer automatically put his arm around her. "Let's go," he said after surveying her pale face.

When they got to the car, he turned to her. "You sure you don't want to go to a clinic. I'm sure we can find one."

"No, I'm just hungry and tired. Please let's go back to the hotel and relax."

"What the lady _wants_ , the lady gets," he responded.

"Spencer, let's stop and get some snack food. I want to take a nap and then watch monster movies with you."

"Sounds like heaven to me."

He put the car in gear and drove away from the church. Memories were sometimes terrible, like the ones that lingered from years past, and they were wonderful, like the memories he had with the one he loved. Tonight, they'd spend Halloween night together as the next step in their new life.

 ** _A/n the theater, "The Raven," is based on a theater in the round I once attended in the Baltimore area._**


	19. Chapter 19

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

 ** _A/n here's the next chapter, folks. Please enjoy._**

Spencer hitched his bag onto his shoulder and joined his teammates headed up the tarmac at Denver International Airport, and the jet home.

"I just checked the forecast," he began. "There's a storm coming in from the northwest. If we leave now, we should beat it."

Rossi lifted his eyebrows. "Leave it to you to freak us out, Spencer."

Reid shrugged. "I'm simply passing on what the meteorologist said, Dave."

"Yes, but I'm having unpleasant flashbacks to tornados and turbulence."

Spencer opened his mouth, only to be cut off by Dave. "Do _not_ start!"

Reid glanced at Emily who winked at him. He smiled and led the way to the jet. "I wasn't going to talk about turbulence again."

JJ chuckled, and Tara shook her head. Luke gave Spencer an inquiring look. "I'll tell you after Dave is asleep."

"Funny," Rossi stated, irritable and hurried up the step to the cabin of the jet.

Reid followed with JJ and Luke behind him. He took the bench seat and stretched out. "You okay, Spence."

He glanced up at JJ who took the aisle seat across from him with Luke sitting facing her.

"Yeah, just anxious to get home."

"It's different when you have someone to go home to."

He nodded. "I don't know why it feels so different now that I'm married, but it does."

"It's different because you're part of something larger," JJ observed. "You're a family now."

"I gotta say I'm a bit jealous," Luke added. "I have Roxie, and she is family, but sometimes I'd like someone waiting for me, especially after this case."

JJ shuddered. "After all we've seen, the things people do to each other still surprise me. Those women only wanted to meet someone, and Richard Aldo took advantage of that."

"At least we stopped him, and he'll never hurt another person again."

Luke's smile was grim. "I wish we didn't have to do this job. I wish people could just…" He shook his head. "Anyway, we are on our way home, and I'm going to take a nap while we get there."

Later, when all the lights were out except for the one over Emily's seat, Reid turned over and sighed. Sleep wouldn't come despite a week of late nights and the ultimate chase and take down of the unsub.

He looked at JJ who slept with her head on to one side on the headrest and her hands in her lap. Luke slept, too, and they both seemed peaceful and untroubled by the world. He sighed again because it wasn't true. He needed to learn to let go and sleep despite the horrors of the job and his worry over his small, but growing family. He smiled in the dark and decided to concentrate on the baby.

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When Spencer unlocked the door to Chriscelia's apartment and walked in, he found the lights out, but candles flickered everywhere. His wife stood near a small table set up in the living room, with crystal, silver, and plates of china on a blood red table cloth. She held a single red rose in her hand which matched her dress, shoes, and lips. She smiled at him, and it was like feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin.

"Hey," he greeted, surprised.

"What's all this?"

She approached slowly and held out the rose. He took it and inhaled deeply. "Hmm… smells wonderful, but not as good as you."

"Hello, husband."

"Hello, wife."

She reached for him and buried her hands in his hair as he kissed her like a man lost in the desert and delirious with thirst. "Wow," he said when they parted. "I _like_ coming home to this."

"Well, don't get used to it, because it's not gonna happen every night."

He laughed and felt the tension from the last week begin to melt off his shoulders. "As always, you keep me in line."

"Someone has to," she replied.

"Not that I'm not happy, but what _is_ all this?"

"It's our two-week anniversary."

"Oh, I'm afraid I forgot."

Chriscelia shrugged. "Actually, there's another, more important reason for this celebration."

He took her hand and led her to the table. She sat, and he pushed in her chair. His nose had been right; she'd thought to order his favorite Indian food. It smelled delicious.

"What's the second reason?"

"I finished the second draft of my book."

He grinned at her happy expression and shining eyes. "That's wonderful, Celia."

"I have a meeting with my publisher tomorrow to talk about the release date. Of course, it'll go through a third draft, but at this point, it's done.

"I'm so glad for you."

She picked up her glass of sparkling cider. "Here's to the best husband in the world. Thank you for letting me base a character on you, babe? My publisher thinks this will be my biggest seller yet. She has a marketing campaign set up, and with luck, the book will be out on Valentine's Day."

Reid clinked her glass with his and frowned. "I'm happy for you, but are you sure that's enough time. The holidays are coming up and with your pregnancy…"

"I can do it," she assured him. "At this point, it's all about editing changes and maybe tweaking some dialog. It'll be fine."

He nodded. "All right, I know better than to try and get in your way."

"It's about time you realized," Chriscelia joked. "Now, let's eat and then I want to celebrate."

Spencer pursed his lips. "You want to read, or play chess, or watch a movie."

Chriscelia threw her cloth napkin at him. "Funny, Spencer. You _know_ what I mean."

"No," he said as he tried one of the wraps on his plate. "I'm not sure I do."

He felt a foot gliding up his leg, and he almost choked on the first bite. "Chriscelia!"

"Good, you're squeaking. It's nice to know I can still arouse my husband."

He pouted when her foot left his leg. "Chriscelia."

"Don't pout, as you said to me, it sets a bad example for the baby.

Spencer narrowed his eyes at her. "That's not funny."

"Yes, it is. Hurry and eat and then…" She slid her foot back up his leg.

"Stop teasing me and I will," he complained.

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Chriscelia turned over and lay her head on Spencer's chest. The darkness surrounded them and cocooned them in like a friendly embrace. She shivered a bit and hugged him tightly.

"You cold," he said quietly.

"A little."

He pulled the comforter around them. "Better?"

"Yeah, I missed you last week."

"Me too, I didn't sleep very well."

"Yeah," she said. "We're a bit pathetic, don't you think."

Spencer chuckled. "I missed my little family. I'm glad to have them back in my arms."

"We're glad you're back."

She felt Spencer place his hand on her stomach. "Daddy's home," he whispered. "Were you good for mommy?"

"The best," Chriscelia said. "Oh, I nearly forgot. I have my first ultrasound the day before Thanksgiving."

Spencer hugged her tight. "I can't wait. I'm going to make sure I'm here for that."

"You better," Chriscelia warned and kissed his chest. "I love you so much."

"Words can't express how much I love you, Celia."

"Then _show_ me."

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Chriscelia sat on the couch in her pink and white window pane pajama bottoms and her favorite Tweety Bird tee shirt. She had her laptop on her legs and typed in fits and starts. Spencer watched her from the door and smiled. She always looked so serious when she worked on her book. It made him proud and happy that they both did something they loved, although his job was sometimes a love-hate relationship.

"I can feel you staring at me."

She looked up, and he noticed she wore her glasses, and her hair was a bit mussed, and she lacked makeup. She was stunning.

"You're beautiful. I can't help myself."

"Thank you, babe, but flattery won't get you anything. I'm on a deadline."

He sighed, "I remember. Why don't I make us breakfast?"

"It's Tuesday, don't you have to go to work."

"Nope, my paperwork is done, and Emily gave us a break for the next two days."

Chriscelia's eyebrows went up. "Really, well I guess my deadline can wait. I work better without you here to distract me."

"I distract you," he challenged in disbelief. "Why?"

She put aside her laptop and went to him. "You still don't get it. You're hot, husband, the hottest FBI agent on the planet."

He opened his mouth to argue, but she kissed him. He decided that he'd rather kiss his wife than argue about who was more attractive.

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"That's was delicious," Chriscelia sighed, as Spencer began to clear the table.

"Thank you."

"Babe, I want to talk to you about something."

He put down their plates and went back to the table. "I know."

"How do you know?" Chriscelia complained.

"Well, the dinner last night, then fantastic sex, and then more sex this morning despite your deadline. Trust me, I'm not complaining, but you're working up to something. What is it?"

"This," she indicated the room. "I love this place, but it's too small for us. We need a real home."

He nodded. "I agree, but that's not what's bothering you."

"I _hate_ profilers."

Spencer simply stared at her. "All right, I've done more than think about it. While you were gone, I couldn't sleep so I went house shopping online and I even looked at some of them." She twisted her hands in her lap and wouldn't look at him."

"You must think I'm upset about your house shopping, why?"

She finally looked at him and shook her head. "You are too good to be true. I go out and make a huge decision like looking for a house without talking to you about it, and you're not mad."

"Would you like me to be mad?"

She hit his shoulder with one hand, just hard enough to make him flinch. "No, of course not, but I thought you'd be upset that I searched without you."

He shook his head. "I'm not mad, Chriscelia, but I do want to see your choices."

"Well, that's the other problem. Some of them are out of our price range unless we use my advance from this book."

"I thought we agreed to save it for the baby's college fund."

"We did, and that's why I was afraid you'd be mad. Remember I told you what my publisher said about my book?"

Spencer nodded. "Yes."

She thinks "Showdown." will debut at the top of the best seller's list. If that happens then, our lives will change."

"Okay," Spencer said slowly. "I see where you're going with this, but I think we should be prudent."

"I just want what's best for the baby, and that means a home and a yard to play in."

"I agree. A good neighborhood and a good school are paramount."

"But?"

He took both her hands. "I have an idea. Will you let me work on it and then I'll tell you about it."

She nodded because his eyes were more serious than ever and she owed him the chance to do something for his family.

"Yes, I trust you."

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Spencer pulled out his phone and dialed a number as he walked through the fall morning to Starbucks. He listened to it ring and hoped for an answer.

"Hey," answered a happy voice. "I didn't expect to hear from you."

"Hi, I'm sorry to bother you, but can I come see you today. I need to talk."

"Sure, is everything okay."

"Yeah, I just have a rather large favor to ask you."

"All right, how about we meet for lunch. You can come here. I've got some fantastic leftovers from last night we can forage."

"Thanks."

"See you about one?"

"Yeah. Thanks again."

He shut his phone and hurried inside the Starbucks. He'd have a cup of coffee and then run some errands before his lunch meeting. He only hoped that Chriscelia would like the plan he had in mind for them.


	20. Chapter 20

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

Morgan answered the door when Reid knocked. He held Hank's hand as the excited child reached out for his surrogate older brother. "Hey kid," Morgan greeted affectionately.

"Hi," squeaked Hank.

"Hey, Hank. How are you?"

The eighteen-month-old grinned at him with a mouth full of milk-white baby teeth. "Hi," he repeated and held out a toy car to Spencer. "Yeah, nice car. You keep it."

"Come in," Morgan held the door wide.

"Hey, man," Reid greeted as he entered. "Is Savannah here?"

"No, she had the early shift today. She wanted me to say hello and to tell you again how much she enjoyed the wedding and the reception.

"I'm glad she had a good time. It was fun."

"It was _you_." Morgan countered. "I'd expect nothing less from the man who loves retro."

Spencer shrugged. "I can't argue with you."

"Let's head to the kitchen. I was just about to make lunch for Hank."

The three of them went to the kitchen. Morgan lifted Hank into his high chair. "Hungy," demanded the toddler.

"Yes, I know, little man."

Morgan handed him a sippy cup, and Hank took it happily. He took a drink and slammed it back on the tray. "Goo," he cooed.

"I'm glad you like it," Morgan replied as he picked up a small plastic plate and put it on the tray.

It contained a sandwich, cut into small quarters, with what looked like chicken salad and a few thinly sliced carrots.

"Looks delicious," Spencer observed.

"The chicken salad is _my_ recipe," Morgan explained.

"I can't wait to try it."

They sat at the trestle style kitchen table with plates of their own, and a bag of potato chips to offset the carrots, Morgan explained.

"So, how's that pretty wife of yours," Morgan wondered after taking a bite.

Spencer chewed and thought the chicken salad was as delicious as it looked. "She has a name, Morgan."

His former teammate grinned at him and took a sip of the water he drank with lunch. "I'm just teasing you, pretty boy. How _is_ Chriscelia?"

"She's great."

Morgan chuckled at the stars in Reid's eyes. "I should've known by the look in your eyes. I can't believe it."

"What?"

Morgan bit into a carrot and chewed thoughtfully. "I can't believe we're both old married men with families."

"You're the old married man, I'm still a newlywed," Spencer argued.

Morgan smirked at him. "Yeah, I can see that. You look great now that you're getting some regular lovin'."

Reid refused to rise to the bait. Instead, he reached for the bag of potato chips. Morgan watched him eat for a minute, then commented. "Seriously, Spencer. Marriage agrees with you. You're happier than I've ever seen. I like seeing you this way."

Spencer decided he better eat his carrots and chewed on one for a minute while he thought about Morgan's words. "I _am_ happy, Derek. It's strange, though."

"Why?"

"In some ways, I feel like I'm in the middle of a wonderful dream. I don't want to wake up if it is a dream."

"It's not a dream. You're awake, and Chriscelia is real. You're going to be a father, and you're going to live a happy life."

"Thank you for not saying I'd live happily ever after," Spencer deadpanned.

Morgan sniggered and tossed a potato chip at his friend. "Since when do you make smart remarks?"

"Since the day we met," Spencer said seriously, but with a twinkle in his eyes. "You never noticed until now."

"Yes, I have."

They were quiet for a long time. Spencer watched Hank get more food on his shirt and tray than in his mouth. Morgan didn't seem to be concerned, but what if Hank wasn't getting the calories he needed for his size.

 _Stop it! Morgan isn't upset, so let it go._

Spencer let his eyes swing back to his friend and noticed that Morgan was watching him with a grin that crinkled the skin around his eyes. "He's fine, pretty boy."

"I know, I'm just… never mind, it's not important."

"Yes, it is, or you wouldn't have come here today."

"I wanted to see my brothers. You have a problem with that?"

Morgan's eyebrows went up. "No, man. I'm just wondering why you're not asking me the question you obviously have on your mind."

Spencer sighed and put down the remainder of his chips. "As Chriscelia is fond of saying, I hate profilers."

Morgan choked on his last carrot stick, drank water, and laughed. "You _are_ a profiler, or did you forget?"

"No! All right, here it goes. Chriscelia wants to buy a house. She has a point. We need a bigger place, but she wanted to use her advance money for it. We agreed to save it for the baby's college fund."

"Sounds, like a good, plan, but you need a house more than you need money for school."

"I know, and I agree, but… I'm not sure what's bothering me."

"I think you're upset because Chriscelia makes more money than you."

Reid pushed back in his chair. "What? No! That's not true Morgan. I'm proud of Chriscelia. She works just as hard as I do, even more so because there's no guarantee her books will sell. I don't know how she takes the pressure to her ego."

"What about _your_ ego?"

"I'm not upset that she makes more money than me. I just think we should be prudent."

Morgan narrowed his eyes and was about to speak when Hank began to fuss a little. "He wants to get down," Morgan said. "Let me get him cleaned up, and then you can take him into the living room. His playpen is set up. He'll play for a bit, and then it'll be time for a nap."

Spencer watched Morgan clean Hank's face, and hands. He talked to the little guy as he worked, and Spencer couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face. Maybe, just maybe he'd learn to be a father like Morgan. Hank was happy that much Reid could see. That had to mean that Morgan and Savannah were good parents.

"Hey, stop daydreaming and take Hank for me."

Spencer took the toddler. "Oh, you've gotten big," he grunted.

"Too much for you," Morgan chuckled.

"No," Spencer denied and made his way into the living room.

After they settled Hank with his toys, Morgan remarked. "Stop worrying so much. You're going to rock as a dad."

Reid blew out a breath. "I thought we agreed long ago not to profile each other."

"Can't help it," Morgan responded as Hank made engine noises and pushed his little car around the playpen.

"All right, I am nervous. You're great with Hank," Reid blurted out and pointed to Hank at the same time. "He's happy, energetic, loquacious…"

"Loquacious," repeated Morgan. "He only speaks a few words."

"Yes, but he's not shy and retiring like…" He trailed off and looked at the floor.

"Like…"

"Like me, okay."

Morgan held out a hand. "Whoa, kid. Take it easy. You are not shy and retiring, at least, not anymore. You're introverted to a certain extent, but you're also kind, giving and compassionate."

"I'm not looking for compliments," Reid argued.

"Okay, but you have to know how much you've changed in the last twelve years, especially since you met Chriscelia. You're confident and comfortable in your skin, or at least you were until five minutes ago."

Reid sighed again. "I concede your point."

"Good, because I have something for you."

"What?"

"Stay here, and you'll see."

When Morgan returned to the room, he carried a manila folder in his hands. "Look."

Reid opened the file and found a color photograph of a large, two-story home sitting back from a city street. "What's this?"

"It's my latest project. It's finished except for the paint and the appliances. It's yours."

Spencer felt his mouth go dry and his heart began to race as he stared at the picture in his hands. "What?"

"You heard me, pretty Ricky. The house is yours."

"I can't accept this," he heard himself say, even though he'd come here with the intention of making Morgan an offer on one of his available houses.

"Of course, you can. That's why you came here."

"Can't fool you," Reid choked out. "This is too much."

"No, it's not," Morgan argued and sat next to his brother. "I bought this property the same week you met Chriscelia. I had a feeling about her and decided it would be yours when I finished flipping it."

"But," Reid said and lapsed into silence as he stared the beautiful home.

"I'm not giving it to you," Morgan explained. "The deal is what I paid for it, plus materials."

"That's not fair," Spencer squeaked. "Yes, I did come here with the intention of making you an offer on one of your places, should there be one available, not to take a gift."

"It's _not_ a gift. You help me paint and put in the appliances, plus whatever needs doing, and we'll call it even."

"I can't," Reid said as his head spun.

"Yes, you can. I want to do this, Spencer."

Tears formed in Reid's eyes. "I can't believe it."

Morgan slapped him on the back. "You better because it's happening."

"I have to talk to Chriscelia, and we'll want to see it," Reid said faintly.

"Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way."

Reid turned and hugged his friend hard. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. It's worth it to see the happiness in your eyes, brother."

"Well, I guess I better talk to my wife," Reid wiped the tears from his face.

"Go," Morgan encouraged with a wave of his hands. "Call me, and we'll set up a time to see the house."

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Chriscelia found Spencer in the living room when she wheeled in the cart he'd bought for her to haul around groceries and other heavy objects. "Hey," she greeted, as she unzipped her jacket. "Good to see you, babe."

She kissed him and stepped back when he didn't speak. His face was flushed, his eyes were shining, and his hands were shaking. He looked like he'd been impatiently waiting for her to return.

"What's wrong, Spencer?"

He let out a breath and grinned at her. "I've been waiting for you."

"I can see that? Talk to me."

He hugged her so tight; she squirmed in his arms. "Honey, what's the matter. You're scaring me."

Spencer pulled back, and his eyes were sober now. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. I'm excited, and I don't quite know what to say."

Chriscelia smiled at him and placed both her hands on his face. "You can talk to me, Spencer. Just say it."

He nodded. "I'm sorry. I've never had the chance until I met you, to reveal something so exciting and wonderful and – "

"Spencer," Chriscelia interrupted softly. "Tell me."

"I found a home for us."

"What?"

"I spoke to Morgan today. I was going to ask him if he'd sell us one of his properties. I had no idea that he'd been working on one for months. He said he knew when we met that we'd always be together."

"Wow," Chriscelia's hands fell to her sides. "I'm a little stunned. Um, help me with the groceries please and we'll talk."

"You're mad," he deduced.

"No," she denied.

"You are, I can see it."

"Let's put away the groceries and then we'll talk," she said again, more forcefully.

He helped her put away her purchases in silence as his heart thrummed and his stomach tied into knots. "Chriscelia?"

She stopped in the middle of the kitchen and confronted him. "I'm not mad, Spencer. You asked me to trust you, and I do. It's just that… I don't know."

"I didn't mean to upset you."

She smiled and went to the table. He sat and bit his lip. "I just wanted to surprise you."

"I know. I think the pregnancy hormones are rearing their ugly heads." She said and wiped away a tear.

"Hey, I did say for better or worse," he reminded her.

"I am happy. I guess you are saying you'd found a home for us after I said I'd been looking and we had that disagreement about money. I was a little irritated. Stupid, huh."

"No. It's not stupid. I was so excited; I didn't think about the best way to break the news to you."

"Babe," she reached for his hands and gave him a genuine smile. "Don't censor your words. I want you to be happy and excited about a new house."

"Nothing is settled," he reminded her. "I told Morgan I'd talk to you and we'd have to see the house before we said yes."

Chriscelia squeezed his hands tight. "I'm looking forward to it. Can we go now?"

Spencer laughed. "I'll call Morgan."

"You must think I'm out of my mind."

"No, I don't think you're out of your mind, Celia. I think we have to be prepared for a little emotional instability in the coming months."

"Fabulous," Chriscelia groaned. "I don't want emotional instability."

Spencer chuckled. "I don't think you have any choice, wife. It's a fact of pregnancy."

"I don't want this part of pregnancy."

She put her head on his chest and sighed. He held her tight and rubbed her back. "I wish I could magically take away all the negative side effects of pregnancy, but since I can't, maybe we can talk to each other when you're feeling… unstable."

She smacked his chest. "Funny. You're right. I'll try to keep the breakdowns to a minimum."

"You don't have to do that. Anyway, you don't have control over your hormones."

"If you still want to show me our new home, I'm game."

Spencer let go of her, and she smiled at the happiness in his eyes. "I can't guarantee Morgan can show us the house today. He's alone with Hank."

"Oh, well, in that case, I need help with cleaning the kitchen."

Reid groaned. "Do I have to?"

"Remember you said for better or worse," she teased.

"I remember."

"I know you hate to clean, but think about how much better you'll feel when we're through."

He rolled his eyes and she laughed. "I suppose," he agreed, reluctantly.

Chriscelia went to the sink and removed a cleaner and a pair of yellow rubber gloves. "You tackle the kitchen, and I'll do the bathroom this time."

"Oh, the delights of married life," Spencer sighed.

Chriscelia laughed and handed him his tools. "Get to work, Dr. Reid.

"Yes ma'am, Mrs. Reid."


	21. Chapter 21

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

 _ **a/n here is the next chapter. Please enjoy.**_

Chriscelia craned her neck around to try and get a first look at Spencer's surprise for her. "I don't understand why we're in this neighborhood," she asked as she fiddled with one arm of her sunglasses. "We can't afford the prices."

Spencer glanced over at her and smirked. "We're almost there. _Trust_ me."

Chriscelia sighed and faced straight ahead. Her hands went to her belly, as they often did now when she faced stressful situations. Spencer reached over and briefly, touched her hands. "Relax," he soothed as he felt them tremble.

"Hands on the wheel, please," Chriscelia ordered.

Reid continued to smirk until they pulled into the driveway of a beautiful, two-story home. "Wow," Chriscelia sighed. "It's beautiful."

The home, set back from the street, was built from red, black, and white brick, with a covered porch area across the front and topped with dormers on the second floor. It was big, larger than she'd seen in most of her research.

"There's another porch on the back," Spencer said, making her jump a little. "Morgan calls it a covered grilling porch."

"This is one of Morgan's places," Chriscelia gaped. "Seriously."

"Seriously," Morgan parroted as he rounded the southeast corner of the house. "Let's go inside."

"Spencer," Chriscelia began.

"Trust me," Spencer repeated. "You're going to _love_ it."

They went up the three steps to the porch, and in the front door. The first thing Chriscelia she saw were steps leading up to the second floor. Slightly to the left was the hallway that appeared to access the back of the house.

"The kitchen is back and to the left," Morgan explained. "This room to your right can be a study or the nursery. The entrance to the master suite is on the other side of the room. To the left is the dining room, and the two-story great room is located behind the first bedroom. Let me show you."

He took them through the bedrooms, the dining room, and the kitchen. "As I told Spencer, it needs paint, flooring, and appliances."

"I like it so far," Chriscelia said and squeezed Spencer's hand.

"You like it now, but wait until you see the upstairs. There are two more bedrooms and a balcony that looks out over the great room. And, there's a bonus room over the two-car garage attached to the west side of the house. The basement is unfinished, but I thought I'd let you decide what to do with it."

"My head is spinning," Chriscelia said as they climbed the stairs and looked out over the balcony.

"You okay," Spencer asked.

"Yeah," she assured him. "Just a bit overwhelmed."

The entire home seemed open and airy and perfect for a family. Chriscelia looked at Spencer, and he smiled at her. "It's three thousand square feet including the basement, and there are three and a half bathrooms."

"That's three times the size of my apartment," Chriscelia pointed out.

"It's perfect," Spencer said.

"I think we need to talk about this," Chriscelia pulled him into one of the bedrooms.

"What do you think?" Spencer asked.

"I think this is way more than we can afford. Morgan's done a terrific job, but – "

Spencer cut her off with a kiss and said. "I think we can. Morgan's offered us the house for what it cost him plus the cost of materials to finish everything but the basement. We help him paint and put in the appliances and flooring, and we're good."

"But, that's not fair to him," Chriscelia protested.

"I've already had this argument with him. It's what he wants to do."

Chriscelia went back to the balcony and looked out over the great room. She began to imagine all she could do with the room, and how they could decorate the rest of the house, including the nursery. "I want this," she admitted. "It seems too good to be true."

"It's not," Morgan came up behind them. "Sorry, Chriscelia I don't mean to gang up on you, but you have to know that this is what I want. I found this house shortly after Spencer met you and I decided to buy and flip it for you two."

"How did you know we'd get married," Chriscelia wanted to know.

"I didn't, but I had a good feeling about you. You make pretty boy here so happy that I thought I'd take the chance. It didn't matter one way or another, because if it didn't work out, I'd simply sell it, like the other houses I've restored."

"Derek is nothing if not practical," Spencer teased.

"Cute," Morgan responded by ruffling Reid's hair.

They both looked at Chriscelia, and she nodded. "All right, let's do it."

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Spencer found Chriscelia in the living room on her laptop. He noticed that she frowned at what she read on the screen. "Hey," he took a seat in the recliner she'd bought him as a wedding present.

"Hi," she responded, distractedly and without looking at him.

He waited for a few minutes, then said. "What's wrong?"

Chriscelia finally looked up. He saw the tears in her eyes and moved immediately to her side. "What's wrong, Celia?"

"I've been researching ultrasounds. I wanted to know what we'll see now that the baby is around ten weeks old."

"The tech will measure the baby to determine a more accurate date of birth, and to check the heartbeat. It's going to be wonderful, although we won't be able to see much yet."

"I know, but what about the testing. It says here that if the baby is between ten and fourteen weeks, they offer to do a Nuchal translucency scan and blood test to determine if the baby might have Down's syndrome."

Spencer nodded and put his arm around his wife. "Yes, but it's not something we have to do, babe. It's optional. You're twenty-eight, Chriscelia. That's several years younger than what the doctors consider high risk for those types of chromosomal abnormalities. If you don't want to do the test, then we'll say no."

"Do you think we should do it?" Chriscelia asked as he pulled away and looked around for a tissue box.

Reid handed her the box from the end table. "I think you need to listen to your instincts. What are they telling you?"

"I _don't_ know," she cried. "I'm a little freaked out."

"Well, why don't we worry about it when we go to our appointment. We'll hear the heartbeat, and I think you'll know then, what to do."

Chriscelia wiped at her eyes. "You're right," she blew out a breath. "I'm borrowing trouble. I will put aside the laptop and return to sanity."

Reid laughed. "You are the strongest person I know, Chriscelia. You will do the right thing, and I will support whatever you choose to do."

Chriscelia studied his face until he said. "What?"

"Here I am, once again freaking out and not thinking about you. How do you put up with my selfish behavior?"

"I don't "put up," with it, as you say," He pointed out. "I love you, and I know you will power through this. You're _amazing_."

"Thank you." She sighed. "Still, I didn't think about how you'd feel about those tests."

"I'm a little scared, but I'm confident that if we decide to have them, they will be negative. I believe in us and our lives together. If, however, I'm wrong then we will get through it together. Our child will be amazing no matter the challenges they face."

"You continue to _amaze_ me," Chriscelia whispered. "I know you have to be thinking about the chances of mental health issues, Alzheimer's, Asperger's Syndrome, and the possibility of above average intelligence, and yet, here you are, talking sense to me."

"When I was young, I never thought I'd find someone like you, let alone, have a child. I thought it was better not to have one if I did find someone to love because of my history, but now, I just want to be a father, no matter what. Is that selfish?"

" _No_ , of course not," Chriscelia assured him. "As Penelope says, everything happens for a reason."

"I believe that with all my heart," Spencer agreed.

"All right," she moved out of his arms and stood. "I better go take a shower. I have a quick appointment with my editor to go over some changes to "Showdown," and then Pam's meeting me for lunch. She wants to talk about a baby shower."

"Already?" Reid teased.

Chriscelia finally smiled, "You know her, Spencer, preparation is key."

"Yes, I remember."

"You think that's bad, Joshua and Johnny sent me an email with a huge attachment of nursery decorating tips."

"I'd say we have all the support we need because both JJ and Garcia are competing to be godmother."

Chriscelia groaned. "How are we going to pick?"

Spencer shrugged. "I think we should flip a coin."

Chriscelia raised her eyebrows. "Um, I don't think that'll go over well, magic man."

Spencer winked at her, and she chuckled. "Oh, Spencer, you know how to get me out of the dumps. Thank you."

He kissed her, and she had to back away fast. "No, I'm running late, but remember your place for later."

He pouted, and she nearly gave in because he was so sexy and endearing. "I'm going to take a shower," she repeated and held out a hand as if to ward off a blow. "You may _not_ join me."

Spencer watched her walk away with a grin on his face. He'd succeeded in bringing her out of her worries, and now it was time to think about the upcoming ultrasound appointment.

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The office of Dr. Jane Elway looked inviting to Spencer. Muted shades of pink, blue and cream, made up the color scheme, with chairs, tables, and little couches scattered throughout the room. There were several women in various stages of pregnancy, and the men with them in various stages of alarm, concern, excitement, and boredom.

As for Reid, he felt only excitement and nerves in the region of his gut. The thought of seeing the baby on the screen was almost more than he could stand. It was funny because he'd see something that looked like a tiny dot, but he'd hear the heartbeat, and that made it real.

"Chriscelia Reid," called Max, Dr. Elway's nurse.

They looked up at the tall, ebony-haired woman with midnight black skin and smiling eyes the color of ripe olives. She motioned to them, and they followed her through a maze of halls to a room in the back of the building.

"Hi," she greeted Chriscelia with a hug. "This must be your husband."

"Yes, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is Maxine or Max as everyone calls her."

"I grew up with five older brothers," Max told him. "They called me Max, and the name stuck," she explained.

He liked the sound of her voice, thick with an accent from the UK. She sounded like fog and tea and double-decker buses. "It's nice to meet you."

Max smiled and said. "Likewise. Now," she turned to his wife. "Let's get your weighed and your lab work done. Are you fasting?"

"Yes."

Reid waited in the exam room until Chriscelia returned from the lab. He passed the time by looking out the window to his left and counting the people that walked back and forth on the sidewalk.

"I'm back," Chriscelia said from behind Spencer, making him jump a little. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just counting the people going about their lives."

Chriscelia nervously smiled as she climbed onto the exam table and lifted her blouse to expose her abdomen for the exam.

"Don't worry," Max soothed. "Dr. Elway will be in soon."

When the doctor entered the room a few minutes later, she greeted Chriscelia warmly. "Hi, Chriscelia."

"Hi Dr. Elway, this is my husband, Spencer."

The doctor, a tiny woman about five feet tall with graying blond hair and kind blue eyes, greeted him with an outstretched hand. "It's good to meet you finally."

"You too."

"Now, you both ready for a look at the baby."

"Yes," the responded in unison, which made the doctor laugh.

The ultrasound tech, a young woman with red hair, bright green eyes, and a white lab coat, entered the room and began the test. She smeared gel on Chriscelia's bared stomach and began to move the transducer over her skin.

"There it is," she pointed out a small dot on the screen. "You won't be able to see any features, but so far everything looks good. I'd say your about ten weeks along."

"Let's hear the heartbeat," encouraged Dr. Elway with a smile.

The tech adjusted the volume, and the thrumming of the heartbeat began to play through the speakers.

"Oh my god," Chriscelia exclaimed and began to cry.

"Wow," was all that Reid could say as his eyes stayed glued to the area that contained the tiny baby he'd made with the woman he loved.

"It's strong and normal," said the tech. "Everything looks to be right on track."

Chriscelia squeezed Spencer's hand hard enough to cause pain, but he didn't flinch. He turned to her and leaned down to kiss her. "I love you so much, Chriscelia, you and the baby."

"I love you both," she breathed.

"This is real," Spencer laughed as tears poured over his lower eyelids.

"Yes, it is," said the doctor. "In about thirty weeks, you're going to be parents."

"Mid-June," Reid calculated.

"Yes," the doctor agreed. "We'll know more at the anatomy scan in six weeks."

Spencer and Chriscelia looked at each other and grinned. "I can't wait," Spencer commented.

"Me either."

"Now, I need to ask you if you want to discuss some available tests that we offer at this point in your pregnancy."

"You mean the Nuchal Translucency Test and the accompanying blood test to determine any chromosomal problems," Reid asked.

"Yes. I assume you've both done your homework."

"Yes, we have."

"Then you know it's optional. I don't think it's warranted because Chriscelia is young and healthy. Still, it's up to you."

"No," Chriscelia said firmly. "I don't want to do the test."

Her doctor nodded her head. "All right, we'll leave it there for now."

"Thank you, Dr. Elway."

"You're welcome. I like Chriscelia very much, and I want what's best for her."

"Me too," Spencer agreed.

"Then, make your next appointment," she directed to Chriscelia. "And, I'll see you then."

"Thanks."

After the tech and Dr. Elway left the room, Spencer hugged his wife again. "Thank you," he whispered tearfully.

"Why?"

He put his hand on her belly. "For this, for making me a father."

Chriscelia kissed him. "I should be thanking you for making me a mother. I can't wait to meet our little one."

"Agreed," Spencer said and helped her off the exam table. "Let's go get a late lunch and take a long walk."

"I think that's a great plan."


	22. Chapter 22

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

 _ **A/n here's the next chapter. Thank you all for your kind reviews and for reading.**_

"Is this seat taken," Emily asked Reid.

He glanced up from staring at a thick, hardbound book he pretended to read. "Hm…"

"I asked if this I can sit here," Emily repeated as she held out a steaming cup of coffee toward him.

"Oh, ah, yeah, sorry."

Emily sat and placed the coffee within his reach. She narrowed her eyes when he ignored it as though it weren't there.

"You okay?"

"What? Yeah, I'm sorry, Emily," he repeated.

"Are you sure, because you keep repeating yourself, and you're ignoring coffee."

Spencer looked at the fragrant beverage, which continued to lightly steam in the glow of the jet's cabin. The smell wafted up to him like ambrosia, but he shrugged his shoulders. "I don't want the caffeine boost."

" _Okay,_ I can understand that," Emily conceded. "I'm just worried about you, that's all."

"I thought we'd seen it all," he mused quietly because the rest of the team slept. "Then, we kick down the door of that house and…" He blew out a breath and rubbed his hand over his face. "I start to wonder how much longer I can do this job. Those kids, Emily."

"I know," she nodded and tried not to think about the sights they saw upon entering the lair of Davis Lee. "I'm glad he's in jail and that we returned those little girls to their parents, but it doesn't change the fact that they'll be in for years of therapy."

Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Want to play poker?"

He nearly smiled at the invitation but shook his head. "Some other time, Emily. I'm going to get some sleep while I can."

"Alright, but can I ask you a question before you take a nap?"

Spencer nodded. "Sure."

"How's Chriscelia?"

He finally smiled, but it was a weary smile. "Great! She's looking forward to Christmas this year. I just wish she'd slow down a bit."

"JJ said she finally outlasted the morning sickness."

"Yes, just in time to do a mini book tour for her last book. I tried to convince her not to go, but her publisher thought that it might give "Showdown," a boost when it publishes in February."

"How do you feel about that?"

"About _what_ ," Reid yawned.

"About a book based on you."

Reid opened one eye and studied his Unit Chief. "It's fine, Emily."

"You sure."

"Yeah…"

"Okay, get some sleep."

Reid did close his eyes, and he did sleep but woke two hours later with the lingering effects of a terrible dream about dead children dressed as rag dolls surrounding him and asking him why he let them die.

"Hey," Emily said. "You okay."

"Yeah, just a nightmare. I don't get them very often, especially now that I have Chriscelia, but she's not here."

" _No_ , which is why you said no to coffee, so you could sleep on the plane instead of alone at home."

Reid glared at her, and she stared back until he shook his head and admitted. "I never could fool you."

"No, you can't," Emily agreed primly and made him laugh.

"It's silly, I know, but I can't sleep without her there anymore."

"It's not silly. It's sweet."

He frowned. "I don't want to be sweet."

Emily reached over and clasped his hand for a moment. "Hey, you're lucky you have someone."

"Yes, I am." Spencer agreed. "I hope I never take her for granted."

Emily smirked at him. "You'll never take Chriscelia for granted, Spencer. You're one of those rare men that realized when they have a great thing."

"Yes, I do. Now, we must find someone for you, Emily."

Emily rolled her eyes. "No, I'm too busy for that. It wouldn't be fair."

"You still miss Mark?"

"Sometimes, but I can't blame him for wanting to stay in London. His family's there, and it's his home."

"Well, I think he's missing out."

Emily smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks."

"I only speak the truth."

"I know, but I don't want to talk about me. Anyway, we're nearly home. I expect the pilot to announce it any minute."

As though the pilot heard her words, a voice came over the loudspeaker and told them they were beginning their descent into DC and they'd be landing in thirty minutes. "There," Emily laughed. "How is _that_ for good timing?"

"Yeah, I'm glad to be back."

"You want to come for a drink with the rest of the team?"

Reid stretched his arms over his head and bent to pick up his go bag from under the seat. "No," he declined. "I have a…movie to see."

Emily's eyebrows lifted, but she didn't reply. They sat in silence until the rest of the team began to stir and gather their belongings.

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Spencer sat at the back of the BCC meeting after sharing with the group. It'd been difficult to stand and share, after the case, but as always sharing made him feel like he could once again lock away the blood and despair of the job. When the last person spoke, and it was time for coffee and cookies, he looked around for John.

His sponsor sat three rows ahead of him and to the right. Reid gestured to him, and they met at the back of the room. "Spencer," John said and embraced him. "It's good to have you back."

"I know it's been a couple of months, but honestly I've never felt as grounded."

"I am thrilled for you," John clapped a hand on his shoulder. "I can see in your eyes that you're settled and happy."

"I am, but I'll always need the group to remind me why I have to be strong."

"Yes," John agreed. "It never ends, but it does get easier with each passing day."

"I wish I could believe that humanity could change."

John sighed and sipped from his cup of coffee. "I heard about Denver. I haven't had a chance to read your report, but I gather that it was a particularly rough case."

"They're all terrible, but it's different now. When were entered the house, and rescued those girls, I wanted to kill Davis Lee. If Tara hadn't cuffed him…"

"Spencer, you have a tough job, which you've done for nearly fifteen years. Most people wouldn't last as long as you have. That speaks to your strength."

"If I'm so strong, _why_ am I here?"

John put down his cup of coffee and studied Spencer. "You're here because you were strong enough to ask for help when you needed it. Do you know how rare that is?"

Spencer sighed. "You're right. I guess I'm just out of sorts because I miss Chriscelia. Isn't that pathetic?

John smiled and clapped him on the back again. "It's not pathetic. You're a newlywed. You're supposed to act love struck."

Reid almost laughed. "I guess you're right."

"Hey, Spencer?"

He turned to see Bill and Charlie, long time members of the BCC approaching. "It's good to see you back."

"Thanks. I'm glad to be back."

"Congratulations on your marriage," Charlie said.

"And the new baby," Bill added.

"Thank you again. Chriscelia's great."

Bill laughed. "Oh, you _do_ have it bad."

John and Charlie joined in the laughter, and for the first time in years, Reid felt the heat of a blush on his cheeks. Still, it was nice to have friends, people that laughed with you and teased you as only friends can.

He finished his coffee, ate a cookie, and talked to several more of his friends from the group. The thoughts of the last case began to retreat into the lockbox he held in his mind to hold the pain and blood. When John walked him out to his car, his head felt clear, but his heart still ached for innocence destroyed.

"Take care," John said and waved.

Reid nodded, tucked his coat firmly around him and put his head down against the bitter December wind until he entered the relative shelter of his old Volvo.

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Spencer pulled on his favorite pair of Dr. Who pajamas, a gag gift from Emily on his last birthday, and headed to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He flicked on the light and looked around Chriscelia's clean, bright, and welcoming kitchen with the coffee maker on one side waiting for him to make another pot.

Spencer reached for the maker at the same time his cell phone beeped. He hurried to the living room and grabbed it.

"Hey, Celia," he greeted his wife when he saw the familiar number on the screen.

"Hi, babe."

"I'm so glad to hear your voice. How are you?"

"I'm great."

"How's the baby?"

"The baby is doing great. I think if you look close, you can see a bit of a baby bump."

"Baby bump?"

Chriscelia laughed. "I mean that I think I'm starting to show."

"You're only fourteen weeks. I think it's too soon."

"I know, but I need my delusions, especially when I'm away from you."

"I'm not going to argue with you. It's cold outside, and I miss my cuddle bunny."

"Spencer, you make me laugh at the oddest time," Chriscelia replied over giggles. "I agree, though. I want to wrap up in your arms and stay warm and cozy for a few days."

"I'd like that too," he replied, as tingles rushed down his spine. "When are you coming home? I thought today was your last day."

Spencer heard a click of the lock and turned to see his wife, beautiful, windswept with pink cheeks and a smile that lit up his heart. He dropped his phone on the sofa and after three long strides gathered his wife into his arms. He kissed her until he couldn't breathe. "I missed you so much it hurt," Spencer said breathlessly.

"Me too."

Chriscelia kissed him again and finally, the faces of three little girls caught in the web of a madman began to fade from his mind, and the rush of love he always felt for Chriscelia swamped everything.

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Spencer turned and curled into Chriscelia. Her arms held him close to her heart as one of his hands found her belly and he said. "Hello, baby. Daddy missed you and mommy so much; you'll never know. I love you very much, little one."

"We missed you too," Chriscelia whispered as she lay, warm and content in their bed while the storm that had been threatening for hours broke with fast-falling snow, and wind that whistled around the windows.

She felt Spencer move, and then he kissed the place his hand had been when talking to the baby. "Oh, I'm so glad you're home and safe."

"Me too."

"Why didn't you tell me you were on your way. I would've picked you up."

Spencer rolled to his back and tugged her with him until they lay with their legs tangled and her head on his chest. "I wanted to surprise you, so I took a cab."

"It was a great surprise," Reid conceded.

"The look on your face was all I needed," Chriscelia said and lifted her head to kiss him.

"Well, that was an exceptional welcome home," Reid decided, and Chriscelia laughed. "I love that we're newlyweds and can't get enough of each other."

"I hope that never ends. I want us to be this way forever."

"We _will_ be."

Reid began to run his hands through her hair. "You sound so sure."

"I am because I'm married to you."

He kissed her forehead. "Go to sleep, Chriscelia. Christmas is two days away, and I'm off until after the first of the year, courtesy of our Section Chief."

"Really," she squealed and made him laugh even though he couldn't see her face in the dark.

"Yes, it's been a rough year, and he wants us to have time with our families.

"Good, because I told my publisher and editor that I'm not answering emails until after the first of the year."

Reid hugged her close and began to kiss his way down her collarbone as his hands traveled down her hips.

"I thought you wanted to sleep," she reminded him, then hitched in a breath when his fingers found their favorite playground and began to make shivers ran down her spine and into her belly.

"Later," he whispered and rolled her to her back. "Let me love you, Chriscelia."

"Yes," she gasped and let him show her how much he missed her.


	23. Chapter 23

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

Chriscelia opened her eyes to the gray and shadowed light of early morning. The digital clock on her nightstand showed 7:27 a.m. in red, glowing numbers. She blinked, stretched, and turned over to find herself alone in bed. "Spencer," she called.

"In the kitchen," he hollered back.

Chriscelia grabbed her robe and hurried to the bathroom because the delicious scent of her husband's breakfast specialty permeated the room and made her stomach growl.

"It's too bad you can't smell that," she said to the baby as she washed her hands. "Daddy knows how to make a _fabulous_ breakfast spread. I can't _wait_ until you're old enough to appreciate it."

Chriscelia stopped to change into a pair of battered, maroon sweatpants, and a white tee-shirt with Tweety Bird on the front. "Your father makes fun of me when I wear this, but Tweety Bird rocks. You'll see!" She assured the growing baby. "Someday your daddy will want to show you Star Trek and Dr. Who. Let's make a deal that we'll pretend to be exasperated by it all, just to tease him, okay?"

Chriscelia pulled on a pair of thick, wool socks with Christmas wreaths and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer worked into the pattern.

"Your daddy likes to wear patterned socks, but he also likes mismatched socks. He thinks their good luck. He's a bit silly, but I know you'll adore him when we finally get to meet you."

After putting on slippers over her socks, Chriscelia headed for the kitchen. The smell of breakfast increased as she hurried down the hallway, and her stomach rumbled.

"I am _so_ glad I'm over the morning sickness," she announced by way of greeting.

"Me too," Spencer responded as he removed his famous breakfast casserole from the oven and set it carefully on the cooling rack.

"That smells delightful," Chriscelia decided. "You're spoiling me."

Spencer, dressed in FBI sweatpants, and a royal blue tee-shirt, smiled and greeted her with a gentle hug and kiss. "Good morning, wife."

"Good morning, husband."

"You deserve to be spoiled," Spencer picked up the threads of their conversation. "You're pregnant, but also, you're wonderful, and you take care of me, so I've decided to return the favor. It's Christmas Eve, and we're going to spend it any way you want."

"I want to decorate the apartment. With the book tour and then spending all day yesterday sleeping and making out with my gorgeous husband, I'm way behind on Christmas preparations."

Spencer grinned at her and closed his eyes as her hands smoothed his tousled hair. "Hm… I _love_ the way you touch me."

"Down boy," Chriscelia teased. "I need fuel for my projects."

Spencer frowned as he tugged Chriscelia into his arms. "I don't like the sound of that."

"Babe," Chriscelia began.

"Let me finish," he laid a finger on her lips. "I'm concerned about you and the baby," he touched her belly. "You just came back from a book tour, and now you want to decorate this place," he waved the other hand around the room. "I don't care about decorations. I just want to have a healthy, well-rested wife."

"Spencer…. I'm fine. I promise I won't overdo it. Okay?"

Chriscelia saw that it wasn't okay, but then Spencer smiled for her and she decided not to pursue the argument any further, for the moment.

"I am hungry," she remarked as he studied her with eyes that saw everything.

"I'm glad because I made your favorite."

"I think that's what woke me," she commented as he led her to the round table in one corner of the room. "I told the baby all about it."

Spencer's eyebrows went up. "You told the baby about my dubious skill in the kitchen."

Chriscelia giggled and shook her head. "Babe, you excel at many things, but cooking is not one of them, except for breakfast. I love your specialty, and I want a serving, now!"

"Yes, ma'am."

Chriscelia watched him cut portions from the casserole and serve it with her favorite apple juice. He included a small bowl of mixed, seasonal fruit and cup of coffee for himself. She rolled her eyes when he turned his back to her.

"I saw that," he remarked and approached the table with a glass of milk.

"I don't know what you're talking about. If you want to drink three cups of coffee before eight in the morning, it's not my concern."

Spencer narrowed his eyes at her and took his place across the table. "I thought I missed your smart mouth, but I think I'll reconsider that stance."

"Ha," Chriscelia dug into her casserole. "Oh, babe, this might be better than sex."

Spencer choked on his coffee, and Chriscelia burst out laughing. "You okay," she asked primly.

"That was not funny," Spencer complained.

"Yes, it was, and I only said it to get a rise from you."

Spencer regarded her with half-serious eyes and pursed lips. "I think you'd better behave, or else."

Chriscelia swallowed a bit of juice and reached for the bowl of fruit. "Or else, what, my darling."

Spencer simply wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she laughed. "All right, I _promise_ to be good."

Spencer subsided into enjoying the meal, and Chriscelia enjoyed the quiet. For her, sitting in contented and happy silence with her husband soothed some of the pain she'd felt while away from him.

After she'd finished helping Spencer clean the kitchen and load the dishwasher, she led him into the living room. "Now that we've eaten and our blood sugar levels are even, I want to talk to you about earlier."

"Chriscelia…"

"No, I understand that you're concerned about the baby and me."

Chriscelia lifted one of his hands and put it on her belly. "I know you love us and want us to be healthy and strong, but please don't worry so much that it comes between us."

"Chriscelia, I know what you're trying to say. I'm sorry if I sounded like a nagging husband, but I do have a good reason to be concerned. You lost your dad this time last year, and I was afraid that it might push you to bury yourself in work."

Tears filled Chriscelia's eyes, and Spencer immediately pulled her into his arms. "I'm sorry."

"Don't," she pushed him back and took his face in her hands. "You are sweet to worry. I am a little sad, and I guess I haven't thought about it because of the tour, but I don't want to ruin the holiday."

"Mourning for your father will not ruin the holidays," Reid argued. "Remember when mom died and you told me to take the time I needed to mourn, and not to worry about feeling better in a set timeframe."

"Yes,"

"I'm telling you to take your advice. Please don't push it down because you think you're ruining Christmas for me. I never do anything for Christmas, so I'm used to it."

"Spencer, please believe me when I tell you I'm not suppressing my feelings. I did break down once after a day of signing books. I was sitting in the hotel room and wishing for you, and it all just came down."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry, honey. You were working, and you didn't need me to distract you."

"Is that what you think, that you're a distraction?"

Chriscelia pulled him back when irritation filled his eyes, and he tried to walk away. "No, Spencer. Remember what we agreed the night we were married. We're going to talk to each other."

"Then why didn't you talk to me?"

"I did, that night and you were great. I just didn't tell you that I'd been crying before you called."

"I should've realized, and I would've if I hadn't been thinking about the case."

"Do _not_ blame yourself, Spencer Reid. I know you love me, but your job requires you to focus."

"Not at the expense of you," he denied. "I won't let it."

"It's not just you in this marriage, Spencer. I'm here, too."

Chriscelia drew in a deep breath and looked down at the floor, so she didn't have to meet his eyes. One of his hands appeared in her line of vision and rose to touch her face. The warmth of his fingers ,broke something in her, and she gasped out a cry.

"Celia, look at me."

Chriscelia let his hands tilt her head up to meet his eyes. "Please," he pleaded, and his voice cracked.

"There's something I didn't tell you," she whispered.

"What is it?"

"I didn't talk to you about crying because I felt guilty and ashamed."

Spencer pulled her over to the couch, sat and tugged her back into his arms. "Why?"

"Because my dad and I didn't get along and I barely cried at his funeral. Why am I crying now," she said, and her voice broke over the words, like glass on concrete.

Spencer held onto her while she began to sob like a child. He stroked her hair and slid his hands up and down her arms. After a few minutes, she pulled back and wiped at her eyes. He gave her the Kleenex box, and she finally smiled. "You're too good to me."

"Because I gave you a box of Kleenex," he joked.

"No, because you let me cry and didn't try to assuage my guilt."

"Celia, I don't think you have anything to feel guilty about. Just because you didn't have a close relationship with your dad, doesn't mean you can't mourn him. He was a huge part of your life, and I know that there were times when you enjoyed spending time with him. You've said he had a wicked sense of humor and that he could be kind."

"Yeah," she sniffed. "Dad could be kind, and funny. I just wish I'd seen it more often, but he was always working and… well, it doesn't matter now."

Chriscelia wiped at her eyes and nose and straightened her shoulders. "Anyway, I don't want to spoil the holiday."

"Chriscelia, I told you – "

"I know, but it's our first Christmas, and I want it to be special, Spencer. It'll make me feel better."

"If that's what you want, then I'll stand by you. All I ask is that you don't overdo it because you want me to be happy. I am happy, whether we celebrate with decorations and all the other accompaniments that go with the holidays, or not."

"I promise I won't go too far. I'd like if you'd help me, Spencer. I bought decorations that I think you'll love."

Spencer raised his eyebrows. "Why did you do that?"

"Let me rephrase that sentence. I bought decorations that we will love. Trust me."

"Now I'm curious," Spencer said as Chriscelia stood and headed for her storage closet. "No, stay there and no peeking."

Spencer patiently waited as he heard the crinkle of paper and the noise of bags moving around behind him, but he resisted the urge to look around at his wife.

"Tada," Chriscelia announced and placed two paper bags filled with decorations on the sofa.

Spencer's eyes widened at the beautiful, Early Victorian style ornaments and other objects that looked vintage, but he realized had to be new. "Wow," he exclaimed. "Where did you find these?"

"At the Dickens Festival a couple of weeks ago."

Spencer stared at her. "How? I was there, and I didn't see you buy anything."

"It's Christmas magic," she hedged.

"Chriscelia!"

"Nope, as you say a magician never reveals their secrets."

Spencer stared her down, then leaned in for a kiss. "You're right," he conceded. "I'll let you have this secret."

"You're too good to me."

"I'm not sure I like your tone, missy."

Chriscelia laughed and pulled a box of ornaments from the bag. "Come on, let's get started.

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Spencer curled an arm about Chriscelia who sat next to him with a cup of hot chocolate in her hands. "Now this is amazing," he had to admit as he looked around the living room.

"I concur."

The room now had a small artificial Christmas tree in one corner of the room. The lights Spencer had hung were dark because it was only a little after noon, but he imagined it like stars in the midnight sky.

Ornaments with figures painted dressed in Victorian style hung from the boughs, and an angel, dressed in white and gold with golden brown curls, a sweet face, and gossamer wings stood at the top, her hands clasped in front as if in prayer and her eyes gazing up to heaven.

Around the room were more of the Victorian decorations including a Nativity scene, and carolers standing near a light post. The flames at the top of the post were painted as if they flickered in the cold London wind. The painted singers held sheet music and wore the clothing of the period, including top hats, long dresses, overcoats, and knitted gloves.

On the door to the apartment hung a wreath made of pine with a golden ribbon and pine cones wound through the bough.

Spencer's favorite piece didn't match the rest of the décor, but Chriscelia didn't seem to mind. It was a replica of the Tardis with a Christmas wreath on the door and the words "Happy Christmas."

"I think it's perfect," Chriscelia finally commented.

"It _is_ perfect," Spencer agreed. "Thank you,"

"I know how much you like old things."

Spencer turned to her and took her free hand. "Yeah, but you're in this marriage, too."

Chriscelia reached out to brush back an errant lock of hair. "Yes, I am, but I wanted this year to be about us. I love the decorations or I wouldn't have bought them. I wanted this year to be about you and finding the joy in the season you never had. And," Chriscelia leaned in for another kiss, "I want to enjoy the holiday even if it's a sad time."

Spencer hugged her tight. "It's a joyful time because I have you and the baby."

Chriscelia pulled back and put her hand on her belly. "Hey kiddo, you don't know what you're missing, but next year, we're going to party."

Spencer laughed. "You're scaring me."

Chriscelia winked at him. "Just wait," she teased.

Spencer wrapped her into his arms and kissed her forehead. "I don't have to wait. I have everything I need, right here."


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: see my profile

A/n here's the next chapter. Once again, I'd like to thank my beta REIDFANATIC for all of her hard work. Also, to my loyal readers, thank you for your comments and your kind support. You're the best. Please enjoy the next chapter.

When Chriscelia exited the bathroom after a refreshing shower, and change to comfortable jeans, a sweater, and thick socks, she found something unusual in the middle of her bed. The bed, now neatly made, held a bouquet of enormous, blood-red roses, tied with a golden ribbon.

"Spencer, where are you? I think Santa left me something special."

Chriscelia frowned when he didn't answer her call. She hurried to the bed and swept up the flowers. As she drank in the wonderful scent of her favorite blooms, something fell from them and hit her foot.

"Hm… a note. I didn't think Santa left notes with his gifts."

Despite her taunting tone, Spencer did not appear at the door. Chriscelia shrugged and bent to retrieve the folded paper.

 _My Dearest Love,_

 _Merry Christmas, Celia. I can't find the words to express how much I love you, and the extraordinary life growing inside you. Please accept these flowers as a feeble token of my love for both of you and forgive my inability to show you how much you mean to me._

 _Spencer._

Tears ran freely over her cheeks as she read the words written in his familiar messy scrawl. If only Spencer could see that it was the everyday things like making her favorite peppermint tea, now spiked with ginger for nausea, and leaving it hot and ready for her to drink, on the kitchen counter every morning. Or the notes he left for her in strange and amusing places, like on her printer, or pinned beneath her makeup bag in the bathroom, or inside the glove compartment of her car. Or, the way he kissed her on the forehead every night just before they slept. Or, how he talked to the baby, with kind, but serious words, as if the embryo could hear everything and know how much it was loved.

Chriscelia kissed one of the roses and laughed through her tears because every tiny expression of his love for her shined like the sun on clear water. Spencer didn't need to say the words or worry that she didn't understand his feelings for her.

Chriscelia wiped her eyes and went to the kitchen for a vase. She'd put the flowers in water and then look for her husband. When she opened the cupboard, she found another note sticking out from inside her favorite mug.

 _Celia,_

 _After you put the flowers in water, please put on your coat and meet me outside. I have another surprise for you._

 _Spencer._

Chriscelia grinned and hurried to put the roses in water, then nearly ran for her coat and boots. She put a hand in her pocket to find her keys and found a small package, wrapped in silver paper, and tied with a blue bow.

"What did you do this time?" She asked the empty room.

Inside the box rested a pendant that had three stones dangling from the chain, diamond, an opal, and a pearl. "Wow," she whispered, "so beautiful."

More tears slid down her cheeks as she put on the necklace and hurried out of the apartment. Chriscelia found Spencer in her car with the motor running and the heater blowing wonderfully warm air. "Thank you," she hugged him and kissed him before he could speak. "You're the best husband in the world."

"Thanks," his cheeks were very pink, "but it's not over yet."

"How long have you been down here? It's freezing."

"Not long. Don't worry about me. I wanted you to be warm."

"I'm fine, babe. Where are we going?"

Spencer looked over at her, and she saw that he wore his favorite brown corduroy jacket and purple scarf with matching brown trousers. "You look _hot_ ," she said and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you. You're not so bad yourself."

"I'm glad you like it."

"We're going to our new place," Spencer explained.

"Why, it's not finished yet."

Spencer looked at her and grinned. "Yes, it is. Morgan and I finished the last of the appliances before my last case, and he brought in professional painters. We're good to go to move in."

"Oh," Chriscelia squealed and wiggled in her seat. "Did you hear that baby," she put a hand on her stomach. "We're gonna have a new house."

"I thought you said the baby couldn't hear," Spencer teased.

"Hush," Chriscelia waved him off and rubbed her belly. "Don't listen to daddy."

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Is this what I'm in for, you ganging up with our child against me."

"Yes!"

"Great."

Chriscelia laughed, and when they arrived at their new home, she sighed. "It's beautiful!"

Indeed, there was a blanket of snow on the ground, untouched by human feet. The sun scattered diamonds over the mantle of white making it sparkle in the morning air. The sky, blue and cloudless bore no hint of the storm that laid the fresh snow. Someone had cleared the driveway because they were able to pull into the garage when Spencer used the automatic door opener to lift the door.

"The electricity is on," Spencer pointed out unnecessarily. "It'll be warm inside."

Chriscelia followed him to the door that led to the mudroom and noticed that he carried a small bag. She didn't ask about it because he was right, it was warm enough inside to take off her coat.

They passed into the kitchen and then to the living area. "What's this," Chriscelia asked.

In the middle of the room, lay a quilt Chriscelia had made in college. On it was champagne glasses next to a basket and a bottle. "Spencer."

"I know we don't have any furniture yet, but I wanted us to spend our first Christmas in our _own_ home."

Chriscelia turned in circles looking up at the railing to the balcony on the second floor. The windows to the east let in enough sunlight to illuminate the room. The carpet, a light grey color matched the paint on the walls. "I can't wait to move in."

"Me too."

Spencer helped her sit on the floor and reached for the basket. "JJ made this for us."

"She didn't have to do that. She has enough with two kids and –"

"She said we'd be helping her by eating some the turkey they had last night. We also have stuffing, green bean casserole, corn, green salad, mashed potatoes, and rolls. Also, a couple of pieces of pumpkin pie and the whipped cream to go with it."

"Goodness," Chriscelia breathed. "I may never get up from the floor."

"Also," Spencer took the bottle from where it chilled. "I bought non-alcoholic apple cider for us."

He poured her a glass and lifted his own for a toast. "I love you, Chriscelia. Merry Christmas to you and our baby."

She reared up and kissed him. "Thank you, Spencer."

After they'd eaten their fill of leftover food, that Spencer had somehow kept warm, Chriscelia pulled a small box from her pocket. "I know you said you don't want a gift, that the baby is gift enough, but I decided to get you something anyway."

"Chriscelia."

"Open it," she commanded, and he laughed.

"Oh _wow_ ," he said after removing the red ribbon from the box.

In his hands, he held a gold pocket watch engraved with his name and the date on the inside cover.

"Merry Christmas."

"This is an antique," he breathed. "It's early Victorian. Where did you find it?"

"Let's just say you owe Garcia big time."

"It's _too_ much, Chriscelia."

" _No_ , it's not because I know how much you love old things and I also know how upset you were to lose your grandfather's pocket watch."

Reid pulled her in for a long embrace. "You're amazing," he breathed into her hair. "Thank you, Celia. I won't lose this one."

"You better not," she warned, then laughed.

They were silent for a moment, then Chriscelia pulled her pendant from under her sweater. "Thank you for this and the flowers. They're beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you," he countered and leaned in for a kiss.

Chriscelia watched his eyes, so beautiful in the light of midday. They were happy eyes, not sad as they'd been when she met him a year ago. She blew out a breath and said. "Why did you write in your note that the flowers were a feeble attempt to show your love and that you wanted me to forgive your inability to express your love."

"Chriscelia, you know I'm not good with words."

"You don't _have_ to be good with words, Spencer. Showing your love is ten times more effective than saying it. Mind you, I like when you tell, but I like it better when you show me, and you do, in a thousand different ways, every day."

"I want you and the baby to know that I'll always be here and that I'll always love you both."

"We know," Chriscelia assured him. "No father in the world 's as wonderful as you. Also, you're the best husband a girl could want."

"Thank you."

"It's true, Spencer Reid."

He hugged her close, and when she pulled back, she asked. "Why did you decide to bring me here, other than wanting to spend our first Christmas together."

Spencer smirked at her. "It was the baby's idea."

Chriscelia giggled. "It was. How do you know?"

"I'll never tell."

"All right, I guess I'll never get a straight answer from you."

"No, you won't," he agreed.

"What now?"

"Come with me to the master bedroom. I want to show you something."

Chriscelia trailed after Spencer through the room they'd designated as the nursery to the huge master suite. She stopped on the threshold and stared. They'd decided to paint the room in shades of soothing blue, with hardwood floors and wood slat blinds at the windows. It wasn't the paint job that stopped her in her tracks. At the far end of the room, against the south wall stood a bed, a very large bed with an upholstered headboard and frame in a beautiful shade of charcoal. The bedding matched the color of the walls. The comforter thrown over the foot of the bed was blue with geometric patterns of red, gold, and green. The sheets were turned down and the petals of more red roses scattered over the surface.

"It's beautiful, but how did you do this alone."

"I had help."

Chriscelia walked to the bed and trailed her fingers over the fabric on the headboard and then touched the flower petals on the sheets. She looked back at Spencer who stood watching her with his hands in his pockets. "What's with the flowers, mister? You trying to seduce a pregnant woman."

"Yes," he stated firmly.

"Hm… well, it is the middle of the day, and my husband might return at _any_ minute. You're taking a huge risk."

Spencer's eyebrows lifted. "Is that so?"

Chriscelia nodded, and her heart began to race as Spencer approached her with eyes black with desire and a smirk on his face.

"It is so," she began, but he scooped her up and dumped her on the bed.

"I'll take my chances," he breathed. "I want to break in the bed if you don't mind."

"Okay," she agreed and sighed as his mouth nipped at her collarbone. "Who am I to complain?"

Spencer snorted laughter and pulled her sweater over her head. "I'm glad to hear you say that," he whispered and sank into her.

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"A girl could get spoiled," Chriscelia observed, as she lay tangled with her husband in the midafternoon sunlight. "I got to sleep in, then two lovely gifts, a fabulous meal and great sex in the middle of the day. I don't _ever_ want to go back to real life."

Spencer chuckled and pushed back a lock of her hair from her face. "I think we'll have to at some point."

"But not today," she said.

"No, not today."

Chriscelia kissed his cheek and sighed. "You know that we have an anniversary tomorrow.

"Yes, the day we met. I can't believe it's been a year."

"If someone told me last year that I'd be enjoying alone time with my husband in my new house, and that I'd be pregnant, I would've laughed in their face."

Spencer did laugh. "I know what you mean. I never thought I'd find such pure happiness with a beautiful woman. I love you so much."

"I love you too, Spencer. Thank you for all of this."

"You don't have to thank me, babe. It's all I've ever wanted."

Chriscelia kissed him, and he rolled her onto her back. "I want to stay like this forever, even if it's only possible in our memories."

Chriscelia reached between them, and Spencer hissed. "God. You have amazing hands."

"No more talk, Dr. Reid."

"Yes, ma'am."


	25. Chapter 25

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

 _ **A/n just a warning that I will be dropping the f word in this chapter. Please enjoy.**_

"Honey, what are you doing?" Spencer squeaked in horror as Chriscelia entered their new home with a large box in her arms, and began to climb the stairs to the second floor.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She huffed. "I'm helping move into my new home."

"Put that down," Spencer ordered.

" _No_ , it's marked upstairs bedroom. Therefore, I must take it upstairs," Chriscelia pointed out.

"You are _not_ climbing those stairs with that box. What if you fall?"

Chriscelia placed the box on the fourth stair riser and turned to face her husband. "I'm not going to fall, Spencer. Just because I'm four months pregnant doesn't mean I can't help."

"I realize you're not a china doll," Reid began. "But, your body is going through changes to prepare for birth."

"Yes, I know," she cut him off impatiently. "We've been over this. My center of gravity will begin to shift. Spencer, I'm barely showing. I _think_ I can handle carrying a box up the stairs."

"It's too heavy," he pointed out. "Or, you wouldn't have put it down."

Chriscelia's eyes flashed, and he barely resisted the urge to flinch away. "I didn't put it down because it's too heavy. I refuse to fight with my husband and hold onto a packing box at the same time!"

"Chriscelia that doesn't mean that –"

"Pick it up!" She commanded, loudly. "If _you're_ so smart."

He stared at her, and she gestured to the box. "Pick it up, smart man."

Reid lifted the box, and it was so light, he wondered if there was anything inside. He put it back on the stairs and faced her. "All right, I was wrong. I'm sorry."

Chriscelia sighed as JJ and Rossi entered the house with more boxes. "Spencer, I realize you're concerned about the baby and me, but you need to let me decide when I've done too much, okay."

Spencer stepped back and almost collided with Rossi. "Hey, watch it."

JJ set down the box she carried and huffed out a breath. "Geez, Spencer. How many more boxes of books do you have?"

"Yeah, you raid the _entire_ library," Rossi complained. "My back may never be the same."

"Sorry guys."

JJ and Rossi looked at each other. "What's going on?"

"Nothing!"

JJ and Rossi turned to Reid, who was pretending not to notice the look his wife threw him before heading up the stairs.

"What did you do?" JJ asked.

"Me, I didn't do anything," Reid defended with another squeak. "I'm concerned for my wife and child, is _that_ okay?"

"Yes, but you must realize that you're driving her nuts with all your lectures about food, how long she works on her book, moving, wearing the proper winter footwear, etc. etc. etc."

"JJ, I love my family."

"We know, kid." Rossi put in. "If you want this marriage to last until your baby is born, back off."

Reid refused to stop. "She was carrying a box upstairs. How was I to know what was inside or the weight?"

JJ leaned against the railing of the stairs and shook her head. "Spence… Do you honestly think she'd lug a heavy box up the stairs on her own? She knows what she can and can't do. Don't insult her by treating her like a child."

"Now, JJ," Morgan began as he joined the group with a box. "Don't be so hard on Reid. He loves her; he doesn't want anything to happen to her. I was the same with Savannah, and we survived."

"Derek," JJ began, and Reid almost laughed when Morgan rolled his eyes and shook his head at her tone. "You also think that women need a man's help."

"That's not what this is about," Morgan countered.

"Guys," Reid interrupted. "I don't want this to descend into an argument about gender politics, okay?"

"I agree," Rossi said. "Stop arguing and get back to work."

The three of them left the room just as Chriscelia walked back down the stairs. "Babe, I'm sorry."

"Celia, I'm sorry."

They both laughed at apologizing in unison. "I truly am sorry," Reid began again. "I promise to back off… a little."

"I'm sorry, too, babe. I guess I'm a little sensitive. I don't want to change because I'm pregnant. I want to be able to do everything I did before the baby. I know I can't, but it's difficult to adjust."

Reid sat on a stair riser and motioned her to him. Chriscelia also sat and smiled at him. "I think you should do what you've done since learning about the baby."

"What's that," she wondered.

"You should listen to your body, and do what it tells you to do. If that means, rest, then you rest, if that means eating certain foods, no matter the time of day, then do it. You'll know when you've overdone it."

Chriscelia's eyes filled up with tears. "Damn it," she cursed. "Stupid hormones."

Spencer risked her wrath by laughing aloud. "Can't wait for the next five months."

Chriscelia wiped her eyes, glared at him, then blew out a breath. "I'm fine," she assured him. "I'll make you a deal."

"What?" Spencer wondered suspiciously.

"I'll agree to be careful during the move if you agree to load the dishwasher for the next three nights."

Spencer narrowed his eyes at her and sighed when he realized that she was serious. "Agreed," he complained.

Chriscelia kissed him, and he forgot about the moving box at his feet and the deal he'd just made with his devious wife. The kiss deepened, and Chriscelia put her arms around his neck. His tongue found the inside of her mouth and what might've happened next, no one knows because an irritated voice said. " _Hey_ , there are children here."

Spencer jumped, nearly tumbled off the riser and squinted his eyes in the direction of Hotch, who wore a scowl, but his dark eyes sparkled with humor.

"Sorry, Hotch."

"I understand that you're still newlyweds, but Jack and Henry are outside playing in the snow."

"Right," Chriscelia said. "I'm sorry, too. Come on, babe. Back to work."

Spencer groaned as he got to his feet. Hotch shook his head. "Getting old?"

"No!"

"Not what it looks like to me," Rossi put in as he carried in another box. "Get the lead out, Agent Reid. We're not doing all the work for you."

"Yes, sir," Spencer said, rather flippantly.

Chriscelia laughed, and Garcia, who'd just come from arranging the nursery smirked at Spencer and added. "Yeah, you think we're your servants."

"No, ma'am."

Tara, entering the house with a lamp in her hands, shook her head and giggled. "Are we moving or congregating here."

"Sorry," Hotch said and ducked out of the way.

"Come on," Chriscelia said to Spencer. "The faster, the quicker."

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Spencer dropped down on their huge sectional couch and stretched out. "The dishwasher is full, and I'm ready for a nap."

Chriscelia nudged his arm. "It's only 7 pm, mister. You won't sleep tonight."

Spencer shook his head and yawned, "I challenge that assessment."

"Babe, I want to talk to you if you're not too exhausted."

Spencer sat up and looked around their newly furnished great room. Curtains that matched the carpet hung at the windows. A big screen television huge on the wall and an end table with a lamp stood next to the sofa. JJ had turned on the gas fireplace, and the flames danced over glass beads like the spirits of fire.

"What is it?" He asked his wife, who sat with her hands in her lap and a serious expression on her face.

"I want to apologize for my anger this afternoon."

Spencer reached for her shoulder and stroked her neck. "Hey, it's okay. I did overreact a bit."

"But that's just it. You're _so_ wonderful, Spencer. You care about me and how I'm coping with this pregnancy. It's more difficult than I thought it would be and you understand. That's rare."

"I can't take full credit. I learned much from both of JJ's pregnancies."

"Like how to humor your hormone-driven wife."

"Yes," he said simply.

Chriscelia laughed. "Oh, you."

"Seriously. You have _nothing_ to apologize for, Celia. Let's leave it alone and enjoy our first night here."

"As usual, you make complete sense. How did I ever exist without you?"

"I love you, too."

Chriscelia went to the lights and turned them down to a glow that showed off the flames in the fireplace. Spencer tucked her into his arms and put a hand on her belly. "We're moved in, little one. We're safe and warm in our new house.

"God, I love how you talk to the baby."

"I like it," Spencer said. "I can't wait until we can feel movements."

"Me too, although JJ said the kicking gets old after a while, especially the kidney shots."

Spencer grinned at her. "Keep in mind that babies kick to explore movements and strengthen their muscles."

"Great, I'm a workout room for my unborn child."

Spencer threw back his head and laughed. Chriscelia smacked him lightly on the arm. "Don't laugh at the pregnant woman."

"Why not?"

"Because I can make you sleep on this couch tonight."

"You wouldn't do that on our first night here, would you?"

Chriscelia tried not to let his puppy eyes get the better of her, but it was no use. "One of these days, your puppy dog eyes will not move me, and then you'll be in real trouble, husband."

"I have no earthly idea what you're talking about."

Chriscelia grunted and pushed him away. "Sure, you don't, pretty convenient for you, wouldn't you say?"

Spencer shrugged, and she gave up. "I'm going to our room and find my pajamas, then I'm changing, and maybe I'll come back out and sit with you while you read. If you promise to behave."

"I promise," he said with such solemnity that she threw up her hands and laughed.

When Chriscelia returned, Spencer was reading a new book. She joined him on the sofa and watched him read.

"I love to watch you read. You're so intense."

He didn't respond, so she found her laptop and began the last of the changes on her third draft. An hour passed so quickly she barely noticed the time until Spencer said. "Hey, I'm finished with my book, and even though it's early, I want to go to bed."

"In a minute," she mumbled, then hit save, and added the document to an email. "There," she pushed the send button. "It's done."

"Truly," Spencer's eyes lit up.

"Yes, in five weeks, "Showdown," will be on bookshelves and in digital format everywhere. The world will be introduced to Agent Samuel Riser."

Chriscelia smirked when Spencer went pink in the cheeks. "I'm not sure if I'm ready for that."

"You better be. It looks like Agent Samuel's already creating buzz on social media."

"How, the book's not out yet."

Chriscelia smirked at him. "Oh, my anti-technology, deprived child. You can download an excerpt from the first chapter of the book, online. Remember?"

"Yes," Spencer nodded. "I was _hoping_ no one would download it early."

"Sorry, that's not how it works. My publisher's gone all out on the marketing campaign. I'm afraid that Agent Samuel's his own hashtag now."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

"Don't you want the book to do well," Chriscelia pretended irritation.

"Of course, I suppose I didn't consider all the variables."

"You better," Chriscelia advised. "This is as real as it gets."

Spencer sighed. "Can I pretend that this isn't happening for just one more night?"

"Of course."

"Good, can we go to bed now."

Chriscelia narrowed her eyes at him and said. "Only if it's to sleep. I'm too tired for anything else."

"What else do you do in a bedroom?"

Chriscelia lunged for him, but he hopped to his feet and let her chase him into the bedroom, where despite his promise, he showed her what they could do in bed, other than sleep.

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Eyes watched the front of the Reid house through a pair of high powered night vision binoculars, equipped with heat signature detection.

"They're in the great room," said a female voice.

"Stay there until you're sure they're in for the night," responded another female voice.

"I know the plan, babe."

"We need to _rethink_ the plan now that they're in a new house."

"You think," remarked the first voice.

"Don't get testy."

"I'm sorry, but you're not the one that is freezing your ass off watching an FBI agent and his little wife."

"I told you I'd make it worth your while and I meant it. I love you, babe."

"Yeah, I love you too. Oh, it looks like both heat signatures are moving. Well, it looks like they're in the bedroom and… hm, I see them _very_ close together. What do you suppose they could be doing?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Might be fucking each other's brains out. Must be breaking in the new bed."

"I don't care if they screw each other into unconsciousness, get out of there."

"I'm gone," said the first voice and punched the end button on her phone.

She put the binoculars away, started the car and turned on the defrost. A few minutes later she pulled away from the new Reid home and drove away into the darkness.


	26. Chapter 26

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

 _ **A/n thank you all for waiting patiently for this update. Your support means more to me than I can say. Please enjoy and thank you for your kind comments.**_

"Hold the elevator, Spence."

Spencer punched the door open button and waited for JJ to hurry onto the car. "Hey, JJ."

JJ smiled, but it was a tired smile that barely touched her cobalt blue eyes. She sighed and pulled her hand through her hair. "Hey, Spence."

Reid studied his friend for a moment. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just a little tired."

"You sure."

JJ shook her head. "I thought we agreed not to profile each other."

"I'm not," Reid denied as the elevator opened on the sixth floor. "I'm speaking as a friend that's known you for nearly a decade and a half."

JJ pursed her lips. "It's Michael. He's at that age where he's beginning to understand what it means when I tell him I'm going to work. He threw a tantrum just before I left. It's tough especially on a Monday morning when I'd rather be home, playing with my boys."

"It is, but I remember when Henry went through the same stage. What did you do then?"

"Same thing I'm doing now, leaving him with Will. I don't want to do that, Spence. I want to be there for him so that he knows I love him."

"He _knows_ ," Reid assured her. "Children his age don't have the brain development to consider their actions. All they know is what they want, and in Michael's case he wants his mother."

"That's what makes it so difficult."

Reid was quiet for a few moments. JJ cocked her head. "What are you thinking?"

"When you went through this with Henry. I wasn't very sympathetic."

"Yes, as I recall, I told you that I hoped one day you'd have a child and be forced to deal with a tantrum or two."

"At the time, I was sure I'd never had a child, and now I'm married and have a baby on the way."

"Then you'll soon see what I mean."

"Offspring can be disturbingly illogical, yet profoundly fulfilling."

JJ narrowed her eyes at him. "Please tell me you're not quoting Spock to me."

Spencer grinned at her. "No, in this case, it's a line from Commander Tuvok on Star Trek: Voyager. Episode 11 of Season 7, titled, "Lineage," to be exact."

"No one ever accused you of inexactness, Spence."

"Nevertheless, it's true, or so I'm told."

"By whom," JJ wondered, and Reid chuckled.

"By you, of course," he reminded her. "You told me so, not in those words, but the meaning was the same. And, I've observed Henry and Michael. I know how much they bring to you and Will's lives. I know how much they bring to mine. I want to experience it every day.

"You're about to, the good and the bad."

They reached their desks, and Reid commented. "I need to thank you, JJ."

JJ dropped her bag on her chair and turned questioning eyes his way. "Why?"

"Because the best thing you ever did was make me Henry's godfather. I didn't want children ten years ago, but now, I can't wait for it to happen, and it's because of Henry, and Jack, and Michael, and Hank. They all made me see that I want very much to be a dad."

JJ hugged him, despite Rossi and Luke entering the bullpen with Tara in tow. "Hey," Rossi began.

Reid rolled his eyes and JJ bit her lip to keep back a chuckle. "Hi, Dave."

"Don't "Hi, Dave," me," Rossi shot back irritably. "It's 9 a.m. on a Monday morning, and you two are hugging in the bullpen."

"Well, think of it this way," Emily said as she left her office and spoke from the upper level. "At least we're beginning this week with a bit of affection."

"I don't need it here," Rossi complained. "I have a good woman at home if I want a hug."

Everyone except Dave laughed. "I think you're looking for a reason to be out of sorts," Reid ventured.

"Out of sorts," Dave repeated. "I'm going for coffee and then to tackle that stack of paperwork on my desk. Unless we have a case," he directed to Garcia, who'd just entered the bullpen.

"No, happily, no sicko pervert killers out there on this lovely Monday morning."

"Good," Dave started up the steps. "I'm glad to hear it."

JJ turned back to Reid after Rossi and Emily returned to their offices. "Thanks for listening, Spence."

"You're welcome."

"Now, tell me what's bothering you."

"Spence…"

Reid looked around and saw that all their teammates were out of earshot, but that wouldn't last for long. "I can't talk about it now."

JJ shrugged. "Just know I'm here to listen if you need."

"I know that, JJ. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Spence."

He hurried away to the break room, and JJ went to her desk. She sent a quick text to Emily. When Reid returned, she was buried in the first of several case files stacked on her desk.

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Reid used his knuckles to tap on Emily's door about half an hour before he had to leave to meet Chriscelia. "Hey, boss," he quipped.

"Not funny," Emily responded, but her eyes twinkled at the sight of one of her best friends, and her favorite teammate at the door.

"I have to leave in about 30 minutes for Chriscelia's appointment with her OB/GYN. It's time for the anatomy ultrasound."

"Of course," Emily gestured to the seat across her desk and put away her case file.

Reid shut the door and hurried to the chair. He sat for a long moment before blowing out a huge breath. "I don't know why I'm here."

"Something's bothering you," Emily responded. "What is it?"

"I'm sure it's nothing, but… well, I noticed on my way in this morning that someone was following me."

"You drove," Emily interpreted. "Because of the doctor's appointment.

"Yes, and I noticed a car behind me, never more than three cars back, all the way to Quantico."

"Did you try to lose the tail."

Reid simply stared at his boss. Emily shook her head. "Right, of course, you wanted to be sure about the tail."

"I'm telling you because after what happened with Maeve, and with the team, and Chriscelia, I guess I'm a bit paranoid."

"It's not paranoia if an unknown vehicle follows you from your home to work. That's a problem, Spence."

"Yes, I know. It's why I came to you first. I don't want the team to hear about it until I'm sure. They've been through enough with Scratch and losing Steven. I won't cause them more stress unless it's necessary."

"What are you proposing?"

"I have a good description of the car, although not the driver. It was a dark green SUV with tinted windows. I believe it's a brand-new car, a Ford, and I have the license plate."

"Interesting that someone tailing a federal agent stayed close enough for you to get a look at the plate. They must not know about your eidetic memory."

"Or, they want me to know they don't care if I track them down. I'm not sure what frightens me more, that they don't care, or that they haven't down their homework."

Emily nodded, and the concern in her dark eyes made him irrationally angry at the person in the SUV. Why couldn't they have normal lives for once?

"Let's have Garcia run the plate. She'll pull their identities before you can say "Live Long and Prosper."

Reid chuckled despite his fear, and his shoulders fell. "I quoted another Vulcan to JJ this morning. She wasn't amused."

Emily grinned, and some of the concern in her eyes faded, although he could see that she'd turn the problem over in her mind until she found an answer.

"I'll take the license number to Garcia. Thanks for listening."

"Of course. I care about you, Spence, and I truly like Chriscelia. I'm excited about the baby, and for her next book."

Reid rolled his eyes, but his stomach knots seemed to relax at her gentle teasing. "Yeah, I can't _wait_ for the book."

Emily smirked. "What's the matter? You afraid that Agent Samuel Riser might make you famous?"

Reid shuddered. "I firmly hope not. Just what I need."

"Oh, come on, it's going to be fun."

Reid sighed. "I've read the final draft, and Chriscelia did an exceptional job making Agent Samuel realistic, or as realistic as he can be considering her book is a romantic thriller. I tried to tell her that FBI agents don't fall for suspects or victims, but she didn't listen to me."

"Possibly because she heard the story about you and Lila Archer from JJ at her bridal shower."

Spencer narrowed his eyes at Emily and frowned. "She didn't?"

"Yep!"

"I'm surprised she didn't hit me with it."

"Maybe she's waiting for the right time," Emily suggested with dancing eyes.

Reid gave her a fake smile. "That's… well, that's something to look forward to, wouldn't you say?"

"I'm sure you'll never see it coming."

Reid stood. "I'm going to see Garcia."

Emily waited until he left before she laughed. Then she sobered and looked at the door as if she could see her friend on the other side. There was no way she'd let another tragedy hit him or her family. She picked up her cell phone and made a call.

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Garcia, as usual, sat before her computers like a goddess before her loyal worshipers. Her fingers coaxed all she wanted from them with a minimum of effort. Sometimes, Reid thought her hands moved as though they had a consciousness apart from Garcia, as though they were independent entities from his best friend.

"Hello, my genius father to be," Garcia greeted and broke the spell over him.

"Hi, Garcia."

"What can I do for you?"

"How did you know I need something?"

Garcia clucked her tongue and shook her head. "I've worked with you for fifteen years, sweet cheeks. I know you. What's wrong?"

Reid handed her a slip of paper. "I need you to run down a license plate for me."

"That's all," Garcia complained. "I was hoping for something more complicated."

"It might be," Reid responded. "It's a car that followed me to work this morning."

Garcia's hands went still. "Oh no. Who were they? Did you see them? Are you okay?

"That's what you're going to uncover for me, no I didn't see them, and yes I'm fine."

"I don't like this," Garcia twisted her hands together. "We just got rid of Scratch, and now someone's stalking you."

"We don't know that for sure. I could be overreacting, Penelope."

Garcia stared at him and tears gathered in her dark eyes. "You never overreact when it's important, and you don't call me Penelope."

"Garcia, we won't know for sure until you run the plate. Then we can deal with it."

Garcia sniffed, wiped her eyes, nodded her head resolutely and straightened her shoulders. She pushed up her glasses and said. "Right, yes, I'll run the plate, and you'll do what you do."

"Please don't tell the team until we know for sure who we're dealing with," Reid asked. "I've told Emily of course, but I don't want to worry the rest of the team unless it's necessary."

"But they'd want to help," Garcia argued.

"Yes, but we've been after Scratch for years. Now he's gone, and I don't want to bring them back to a place where they're stressed and worried."

"Don't you think they'd want to worry if someone is trying to hurt you."

"I suppose, but, please Garcia…"

"Alright," Garcia sighed. "I understand how you feel. I'll do what you ask. Just promise me, you'll tell them immediately if you need to kick butt."

Reid grinned and nodded his head. "I will tell them immediately. I promise."

"Then, go, I know you have the doctor's appointment."

Reid smiled as Garcia hugged him. "I'm excited. I can't wait to see the baby."

"Are you going to find out the sex?"

Reid rolled his eyes at the question. "I think you want to know more than we do."

"Yes, so I can begin spoiling him or her."

"Garcia, you promised… remember what we discussed the other day."

Garcia pouted, and it made Reid laugh. "Yes, I remember. It's no problem. If you decide to find out and keep it to yourselves, I'll start off with gender-neutral gifts."

Reid shook his head. "I can see I won't make you change your mind."

"No, now get out of here while I work. I'll have this stalker dead to rights with his entire life before your eyes quicker than you can say "Thank you, Garcia, you are a goddess."

Reid laughed. "I have no doubt."

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Reid parked his car and hunched his shoulders against the January wind. He hurried through the bright sunlight accompanying the descent of the sun in the west with his hands in his pockets and his purple scarf knotted around his neck.

He didn't see the car parked behind him, nor the eyes trained on his back as he made his way into the three-story building. He worried about stepping carefully around piles of snow and some patches of ice on the blacktop.

"He's going into the building," said the female voice.

"Stay with him."

"I will, but I'm getting tired of sitting in the cold. I want to go back to warmth and leave behind all of this ugly snow."

"You have to be my eyes, sweetheart."

"I hope you're right about this because I think he's beginning to get suspicious."

"Why? Did he see you?"

"No, but there was another car following him this morning, and they must be complete amateurs, because they were following at a distance that made it obvious, even to him, that he had a tail."

"Don't underestimate him. He's a trained FBI agent, as you well know. Don't forget what he did to you, darling."

"I haven't forgotten. I will have revenge for me and… for you, babe."


	27. Chapter 27

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

 ** _A/n thank you all, again for your kind support of this story. Many thanks to my wonderful Beta, who keeps me in line and maintains the quality of this story. Thank you, REIDFANATIC . Please enjoy this new chapter._**

Reid's cell beeped just as he walked off the elevator car. "Reid," he answered briskly, his nose stinging from the change in temperature from his walk to the medical center.

"Spence, it's Emily. We have a line on the owner of the car you spotted.

Reid stopped in front of a bank of windows that overlooked the parking lot from the fifth floor. "Tell me."

"Her name is Victoria Bell. She lives in Alexandria, and she's a legal secretary for Keller, Whitman, and Wojinski. She's lived in Virginia for the last fifteen years, has three brothers all living out of state. Her parents are retirees that constantly travel, and she's never had so much as a parking ticket."

Reid frowned as he glanced at his watch. If he hung up now, he'd be just in time to meet Chriscelia. "She doesn't fit the profile of a stalker."

"Wait, I didn't get to the interesting part. She's a member in good standing of The National Christina Harris Fan Club."

Reid heart rate kicked up, but he forced himself to remain calm. "That doesn't mean she's a stalker."

"No, but I want your permission to fill in JJ. I want to see Ms. Bell and talk to her. Perhaps she'll open up to a couple of women, especially two Christina Harris fans."

"At least, you won't have to fake enthusiasm for the subject matter," Reid pointed out.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Emily retorted with a laugh.

"Let's just say I will be relived if you find out she's only an overenthusiastic fan."

"Me too. Now, I'm making you late. Go meet your wife."

"Yes, Ma'am."

He put away his phone and hurried into the waiting area. "Hey, babe," he greeted Chriscelia with a kiss.

"Hey, handsome. You're late."

"Two minutes," he pointed to his watch, and she smirked at him.

"I know, just giving you a hard time."

Reid reached over and laid his hand on her tiny baby bump. "See baby… mommy likes to tease your papa. Hurry up and grow strong so you can come out and help me."

Chriscelia laughed, and one of the other patients looked over her magazine at them. "Guess we better keep it down," she giggled.

"I suppose we better," Reid agreed.

Twenty minutes later, Chriscelia climbed onto the examination table. She'd had her lab work, and her weight checked, along with her blood pressure and pulse as taken by Max. Now they awaited Dr. Elway and the ultrasound tech.

"How was your day?" Chriscelia asked.

"It was good. No case, just paperwork and consults."

"You sure," she probed. "You have a look of worry around your eyes."

"I don't think I like that you know me so well, Mrs. Reid."

"Oh no, what did I do. You never call me, Mrs. Reid. I feel like I've been called to the principal's office."

"Why? Did you spend an inordinate amount of time in the principal's office during school?"

Chriscelia reached out to smack his arm, but Reid ducked out of her reach. "No! I was the perfect student."

Reid dared to sneak a kiss. "I believe you," he said.

Chriscelia narrowed her eyes at him. "You're avoiding my question, Spencer Reid."

At that moment, Dr. Jane Elway entered the room. "Hello, you two. How is my favorite patient?"

"I'm good but nervous."

"Yeah," Reid agreed with a nod. "Can't wait to find out the gender of the baby."

"Then let's get started."

Reid glued his eyes to the ultrasound screen. His hand gripped Chriscelia's hand and his heart slammed in his chest. The screen was shades of gray, black and white, and extremely grainy, but after the tech adjusted some knobs and began to move the scanner back and forth over Chriscelia's belly, he thought he picked out the tiny baby.

"Looks good," said the red-haired tech named Marcia. "See that string of pearls, that's the spinal column."

Chriscelia squeezed his hand, and he tore his eyes away from the image on the screen to look at his wife. Tears had filled her eyes, and she was smiling, her face joyful and glowing. "It's awesome," he said.

"Yeah," she breathed.

Dr. Elway pointed out the hands, and feet, and several shadows in the torso that was the heart and other vital organs. It appeared to Reid that the baby had webbed hands, which made him smile as he went over stages of development in his head. He wished he could watch it all, every day.

"Me too," Chriscelia said reading his mind with little effort.

"Do you want to hear the heartbeat?"

"Yes," they said in unison.

Marcia turned another knob, and the quick lub-dub of the heartbeat filled the room. "Oh my god," Chriscelia began to cry.

"Wow," Reid whispered. He wondered if he'd ever get used to hearing that sound.

"Now, I know you want to know the gender.

"Yes," Reid said.

"Yes, we do," Chriscelia said.

"You're having a girl."

A girl! Reid thought, and it was everything he wanted. He was a father, to a tiny baby girl. Oh, he knew the baby would look just like her mother, and she'd be kind and smart, and beautiful and loving. She'd have friends, and she'd be happy, he'd make it happen.

"A girl," Chriscelia squeaked. "Spencer, did you hear that."

"Yeah," he said over the tears that ran down his cheeks. "I love you, Chriscelia. More than I can say."

"You're happy," she said. "You're sure you don't want a boy."

"Honey, I don't care as long as it's healthy, but I am glad it's a girl."

They laughed and cried. Dr. Elway wiped at her eyes. "Stop it, you two. You're making me cry."

Marcia grinned at them, and when she turned off the machine, Reid's heart broke, just a little. He looked at Chriscelia and read the disappointment in her eyes as the tech wiped off the gel from her belly. "Well, I guess we have to wait until she's born to see her again."

"I'm making you a digital and hard copies," Marcia said. "Just like last time."

"Thank you," Reid said happily.

"You're welcome. Everything looks perfect with your little girl. She's right on track."

"Thank you again, Dr. Elway," Chriscelia said.

"You're welcome. As for you, Chriscelia, your test results look fine. Remember to eat right, exercise and get plenty of rest and drink plenty of water."

"I will."

"Is there anything you're concerned about," Dr. Elway asked.

"Only my weight. I'm prone to weight gain, and I don't want to add more than I should."

"Your weight gain is right where it should be, so keep doing what you're doing, and you'll be fine."

"Okay, thanks again doc."

"You're welcome. Go make your next appointment."

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They were halfway down the hall to the elevator when Reid's phone chirped.

"Oh no, please tell me you don't have to go back to work."

"I hope not," Reid said and pulled his phone from his pocket.

They stopped next to the same bank of windows in front of the elevator and Chriscelia watched people get on and off the cars as her husband talked. She noticed that the tenseness of his body language changed and he visibly relaxed. The worry left his eyes, and he smiled.

"No, Emily. You did the right thing. It's no use making a bigger deal than it is. They weren't trying to hurt us. Tell Garcia and JJ I said thank you. Yeah, I'll tell the rest of the team tomorrow. I will, bye."

"What was that all about?"

"I don't want to talk about it here. Will you please wait until we get home?"

She studied him for a moment as he pushed the button for the first floor. "All right, but I want to celebrate whatever it is that made you relax and that we're about the have a daughter."

"What do you want?" Reid asked, warily as they boarded the elevator.

"I want Greek food, specifically the "Starving Greek."

"Only if you agree to their vegetarian plate."

"Deal," Chriscelia said, "as long as I get a side of their lemon rice."

"I'm fine with that," Reid answered and wrapped his arm around her as they left the elevator car. "And to show my solidarity, I'll order the same."

"You're too good to me."

Reid laughed. "Well, I love you. What can I say."

"Good answer," Chriscelia replied. "See you at home."

"Drive carefully," he called as the separated in the parking lot.

"I will."

Reid pulled his jacket close, stamped his feet, and in the fading light of a winter sunset, hurried across the parking lot to find his car and pick up their food.

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She watched him cross the parking lot until he came to just fifty feet away. He stopped at his car, and she smirked as he fumbled for his keys. Soon, the time would be right, and he'd be the one in the middle of a choice.

She was about to start her car when she noticed that he stopped before getting into his old clunker that should've met the junk heap long ago. He suddenly turned and stared right at her, or their eyes would've met had she not dropped down onto the seat. She lay there with her heart racing in anger, not fear. She should've been more careful. She forced herself to lay there for five long minutes before cautiously looking over the dashboard. It was getting dark, but she could see that his car was gone. Good, the anger faded, and she started her car. She turned the heat all way up and finally as she headed west toward the Reid home, the air began to warm, and she stopped shivering.

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Chriscelia tapped lightly on Spencer's office door. He sat facing the east wall with his profile to the entry. She loved to look at his profile, and wonder how someone with the face of an Angel had fallen in love with her, married her and fathered her child. It struck her now, love, bright and beautiful, right in the middle of her gut. She put a hand on her belly and struggled not to give into tears.

"Hey…"

Chriscelia realized that Spencer was talking to her. "Sorry, I did knock, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did," he answered as he stood and crossed to her.

"Sorry, I wanted to talk to you, and when I saw you sitting there looking gorgeous in the lamplight, I realized how lucky I am."

"I'm not sure you'll think so when I tell you about today."

"Oh yeah," Chriscelia agreed. "I did come up here to ask you what bothered you, and then you distracted me with your angel face."

When he didn't blush, or attempt to throw off her compliment, she felt a chill go down her back. "What happened?" She demanded.

"Come sit," Spencer led her to the second chair in the room, another office chair, but a comfortable ergonomically correct seat.

Spencer pulled his chair over to her and took her hands. "I'm not going to like this, am I?" She asked, carefully.

"No. When I was on my way to work, I noticed a car following me."

'" You're sure it was following you." She saw the look in his eyes and nodded. "Yes of course. Did you stop or call the cops? What happened?" Chriscelia demanded, her voice rising over each word.

"I spoke to Emily, and she agreed that we bring in Penelope because I did get the license plate."

"Who was it!"

"I'm getting to that. It was one of your fans."

"Oh god, not again."

Chriscelia tried to pull her hands away from him, and stand, but he wouldn't let her move. "Celia, it's not like the last time."

"How do you know?" she shouted, then began to cry. "How do you know? I can't go through that again."

"Chriscelia, please listen to me."

Chriscelia looked at her feet and sniffed audibly. It was happening again, and she couldn't take the stress, not with the baby.

"It's not the same," Spencer repeated. "Look at me, Celia and let me finish."

She looked up because, for the first time, she heard the worry in his voice. 'I'm listening."

"It was a fan, but not a stalker. Her name is Victoria Bell. She paid one of the receptionists at your publishing firm for our address. She wanted a picture and an autograph."

"Jesus," Chriscelia cursed. "Why didn't she contact the publisher? They have photographs and books signed by me. Why follow you?"

"Everyone knows I'm the inspiration for Agent Samuel, so she wanted my picture and autograph too. She was hoping to catch us at the same time."

Chriscelia finally looked up at him. "Are you sure she's harmless."

"Emily and JJ went to see her and her roommate. They talked to her and made it clear that following a federal officer was, shall we say, frowned upon."

Chriscelia shook her head. "I'm not happy about it, but it does sound like she didn't mean any harm."

"I think Emily and JJ put the fear of God into them because she and her roommate burst into tears and begged not to be arrested."

"Good," Chriscelia decided. "People need to understand that it's not okay to invade someone's privacy even if they're a writer."

"You're right," Spencer agreed.

"There's something else," Chriscelia probed. "I can see it. What happened."

"I don't think it's anything to worry about. I think I'm a bit paranoid after this last…situation."

"Tell me," her hands tightened their grip on his so that it almost hurt.

"When I left you at the medical center, I got to the car and had to fumble for my keys because I put them in my pants pocket instead of my coat. I just got that back of the neck feeling, you know the one when you can feel someone watching you from behind."

"Was there someone there?"

Spencer pulled one of his hands from her grip and reached out to push back her hair and wipe away fresh tears.

"No, I didn't see anyone. That's why I think my imagination's getting the better of me."

"Spencer, you're an FBI agent and one of the world's best profilers. If you think you're being watched… well, I think you should take it seriously, even though it scares me to death."

"I don't want you to live in fear, Chriscelia. It's why I hesitated to tell you."

"Don't ever hesitate to tell me something so important. I'm not made of glass, Spencer."

"I realize that, but I want the facts before I react. Believe me, I'm watching out for me and for my family. I will _not_ let anything happen to either of my girls."

"That's the only reason I'm not furious with you. You love me, and you love our little girl. We know you and your team will take care of us."

"They will because they refuse to let more tragedy overwhelm us."

"Then I'll try to go about my life in my usual happy go lucky, carefree way."

Spencer chuckled at her sarcasm. "That'd be a nice change."

Chriscelia smacked his shoulder. "Hush. You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do."

"Are we okay."

"Yes, and we'll stay that way."

"Good, what's the next steps?" Chriscelia wondered.

"I've already spoken with a security specialist the Bureau uses for protecting the likes of the Director."

"I don't need a bodyguard, Spencer."

He clenched her hands tight. "I wish I could get you to agree to one, but I already know you won't accept it. So, I'm having him come do an evaluation of the house and upgrade the electronic security."

Chriscelia nodded in resignation. "You're right. We need a better security system."

"We'll get it," Spencer promised her. "I will not let anything happen to you or the baby." He promised her again.

"And I will not let anything happen to you," Chriscelia promised him. "We're in this together, all right?"

Spencer kissed her and pulled her to her feet. "I want you to go lay down, Chriscelia."

"I'm going downstairs," she agreed. "I want to spend time in my new glider rocker with a good book and then I'll lay down."

Spencer kissed her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. They held onto each other for a long time then parted.

"I love you, babe," she whispered.

"I love you too."


	28. Chapter 28

**_Disclaimer: please see my profile._**

"It needs to come up about half an inch, babe," Chriscelia instructed while Reid hung a picture on the wall behind her antique roll desk which stood in one corner of the great room.

"You _sure_ this time," Reid complained.

"Yes, dear."

Reid stepped down from the step ladder and wiped his hands on his slacks. "Is that it?"

"Yes, thank you?"

Chriscelia kissed him. She intended it to be brief, but Reid held her close when she tried to pull back. "Wow," she observed when he finally let her go. "What was that for?"

"I like kissing my wife, in my new house, with a fire crackling behind me, and a new baby on the way."

He crouched in front of Chriscelia, kissed her belly and said with great solemnity. "The last picture's hung, little one. We are truly home."

Chriscelia wiped away a tear, and when Spencer stood, she leaned up and kissed him. "All of this," she indicated the room around them with its huge sectional sofa, flat screen television on the wall, her roll top desk and the tall windows facing south, with brand new curtains made from sapphire blue fabric hanging in gathered folds from ceiling to floor, "is just… possessions. It's all replaceable, but you, my handsome husband and our daughter are not. You're my home.

"Agreed."

Spencer kissed her again and then sighed. "As much as I'd like to stay here and make out with you, I have to go to work for a few hours. I'm way behind on paperwork, and I promised Emily I'd finish it before taking off two days for Valentine's Day."

"Go, pay the piper for our vacation time. I need to get on the phone with my publisher and talk about a few last-minute details before the book comes out in two days."

"What else can there be?"

"She's going to attempt to persuade me to talk you into going on a book tour with me. She thinks that showing off the FBI agent who inspired Agent Riser would attract crowds."

Spencer went as pale as fresh cream and Chriscelia had to hold back a laugh. "No!" He insisted. "not. I don't care how much my presence does for sales. I will not prostitute myself that way."

"Wow!" Chriscelia said with a laugh she couldn't hold back. "Prostitute! Don't you think that's a bit harsh."

"No, I don't," he insisted. "It's not funny."

Chriscelia forced another laugh by clearing her throat. "Don't worry, my love. I won't let my publisher talk me into anything that makes you uncomfortable. You were kind enough to allow me to use you for inspiration. I draw the line at parading you about like a prize stallion at a stud farm."

"Interesting analogy. Is that how you see me?"

Chriscelia rolled her eyes at his raised eyebrows. "You don't want to "prostitute," yourself, but you're okay with me making prize stallion references."

Spencer tugged her close. "Yes, as long as everyone understands that I'm your stallion."

"Yes," Chriscelia sighed and kissed him. "You certainly are."

Spencer pushed her away before she could undo more than two of the buttons on his sweater. "I have to go."

"All right, but remember your place for later."

"I will."

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Chriscelia switched off the vacuum and pulled off her headphones. "Sorry about the noise, baby." She rubbed her belly. "This is what we call, doing chores. Cleaning the house is unavoidable, little one. Personally, I'd hire a housekeeper, but that'd take the fun out of convincing your father to clean the bathroom."

Chriscelia emptied the canister into the kitchen trash can and wound up the cord. She stowed the vacuum in the utility closet and sighed. "Now, my sweet girl, I think we've earned a little break and a snack. Don't tell daddy."

In the freezer, she found the last of her favorite Key Lime Ice Cream. She was about to set it out to thaw when she heard Spencer's voice in the hallway. "Celia. Where are you?"

"Kitchen."

"Hey," he entered seconds later with a conspiratorial grin on his face. Chriscelia couldn't help but smile back.

"Not that I'm complaining but why are you so happy."

"Because it's Valentine's Day, or did you forget?"

"It is," she asked. "I guess I did forget."

Spencer studied her face. "I don't think I believe you."

"You should because it's true."

"Well, I have a surprise for you."

Chriscelia grabbed his arm and stopped him from heading back to the hallway. "Wait, I thought I told you I didn't want anything for Valentine's Day. My book was released today. Because of you and your insight into Agent Samuel and Kira, it hit the top of the best-seller list. There's no way I can thank you for that, babe."

"Oh, I can think of a few things," Spencer winked at her and yanked her in for a kiss that made her legs go to mush.

"I refuse to participate in the cliché of Valentine's Day." She insisted when he let her go, and she managed not to stumble and fall.

Spencer lifted his eyebrows and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Do you?" he asked.

"Yes," she stepped back from her husband. "Stay back, Agent Reid."

"I'm not interested in the typical Valentine's Day activities." He made a quote with his hands. "I have something I want to show you. It's your present."

"Spencer!"

"Come on."

Chriscelia followed him to the front door because she liked to watch him walk. Her mouth curved into a smile as she tracked him until he opened the door and stepped back. "Surprise!"

In the driveway, behind her red sedan, sat a black SUV. It looked brand new to her. "What is that?"

"It's a new vehicle and… it's extremely aesthetically pleasing."

"Yes, it's beautiful, but where did you get it and why. Where is your car?"

"I realized after the incident with Victoria Bell that we need more security."

Chriscelia wrapped her arms around her waist and shivered in the cold air of the February afternoon. "Yeah, and we got our new security system. What does that have to do with your car?"

"I realized that my Volvo, although a classic and in great condition, wasn't safe for a child. Did you know that when that car was made, it didn't have seatbelts? I had to have them installed to make it legal to drive across the country when I left Nevada sixteen years ago."

"Wonderful," Chriscelia's teeth chattered. She stamped her feet and rubbed her arms. "Can we go inside?"

"Oh, sorry," Spencer shut the door. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, let's go sit down and talk about this."

"I don't understand what's to discuss," Spencer observed as he followed his wife to the great room and their sofa.

"You said it's my gift. How can that be when you need a car?"

Spencer sighed and put up his hands in surrender at the irritation in her hazel eyes. "You're right. It is for me, but it's also for you and the baby. I want us to be safe."

"Babe," she curled into his arms. "I know you want to keep our daughter safe, but you didn't have to give up your most prized possession. That car used to belong to your mother."

"Yes, but it wasn't my most prized possession, Celia. You and our little girl are most precious to me. Without you two, I'd be lost. In fact, I think I'd be locked away in some institution, like my mother. I can't imagine living such a life."

"Then I won't complain," Chriscelia promised. "How can I when I know how much you love us," she rubbed her belly. "Anyway, it looks awesome."

"You have no idea," Spencer said excitedly. "It's fully loaded."

"Fully loaded?" Chriscelia repeated with a smirk. "Since when do you use terms like fully loaded."

"It's acceptable slang, is it not?"

"Sure, continue," Chriscelia directed.

"As I was saying," Spencer continued. "It has everything, electric windows, locks, access to the internet, and satellite radio. It has antilock brakes, four-wheel drive and a camera that helps you back the car out of your parking space. It can parallel park on its own, Chriscelia."

"That's great," she encouraged him because he was more excited than she'd ever seen. "What else?"

"It's a 2018 model with gas mileage is 21 cities and 29 highway. It' seats five people and has a front grille and rear spoiler. There are cloth seats with suede inserts. The best part is the engine because it's turbocharged with direct -injection twin scroll 2.0L Ecoboost."

"What does all that mean?"

"That it rocks, as Morgan would say."

"Well good."

"Also, it has the latest safety equipment include driver and passenger airbags. Also, it has hands free; foot-activated liftgate."

"You sold me at turbo-charged," Chriscelia said. "You wanna trade cars."

Spencer lifted his eyebrows. "Absolutely not."

"A simple no would've sufficed."

Spencer laughed and hugged her tight. "So, what do you think?"

"I think it's great, but are you sure you can afford it."

"No problem, I bought it for cash."

Chriscelia simply stared at him. "You paid cash for a thirty-five-thousand-dollar car? How?"

"I've never had a car payment, Chriscelia. I've been saving for years, just in case the Volvo ever broke down completely."

"Smart," Chriscelia smirked at him, the sighed. "Right, you're a genius."

"Of course."

"Well, congratulations, my brilliant G-man. Your selection's very sexy."

Spencer kissed her. "Thank you, but now I want to know about your book. Today's the big day."

"Barnes and Noble have it debuting at number one."

"That's wonderful. I knew you could do it."

Chriscelia twisted her hands together. "That's what my publisher said, but I don't know what to think about it. This is big, Spencer."

"Hey," he soothed her by stroking her hair. "I know this is going to change things for you, and for us, but it's going to be okay."

"What if someone comes after me again," she whispered into his shoulder. "No one has any privacy anymore, not even a bestselling author."

"It's going to be okay. We have our new security system, and I'm always going to be here. I will not let anything happen to my family."

He laid his hand on the slight curve of her belly. "Isn't that right, baby girl?"

Chriscelia giggled. "Isn't that what Morgan calls Garcia."

Spencer laughed. "Yes, it is. Don't tell her I stole it from him."

"What's it worth to you?"

Spencer kissed her, but she pushed him away. "I don't want kisses."

Reid's eyebrows went up. "You don't?"

"Well, not now. I want a ride in your new car."

"Okay, but then I have a meeting this afternoon."

Chriscelia nodded. "Of course."

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Chriscelia shut her laptop and stood. She stretched and said to the baby. "I think we need to take a walk before daddy comes home. We've been sitting too long, and the sun is going down."

She hurried down to her room and changed into thick socks, jeans, a wool sweater, and her old sneakers. She was in the closet hunting for her knitted cap when someone rang the doorbell. She pulled her phone from her pocket activated an app and looked at the person standing at her front door. She tapped another button, and the wireless speaker sprang to life. "Who is it."

"Delivery for Chriscelia Reid."

Chriscelia's heart jumped, and she nearly squealed at the sight of a large bouquet of scarlet roses in the hands of a young woman in a burgundy uniform with a matching hat over dark hair.

"I can't believe he remembered last year," she exclaimed as she opened the door.

"Chriscelia Reid?"

"Yes, that's me."

"Good," said the young woman, and she smiled in a way that made Chriscelia flinch. Then the woman dropped the flowers and revealed the largest handgun Chriscelia had ever seen, and it was pointed at her midsection. "Scream, and I'll shoot you where you stand."


	29. Chapter 29

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

 ** _A/n please enjoy and thank you for your support. I hope you are enjoying the Christmas season that is upon us. Thank you for your patience, as it's been a couple of weeks since I have updated. I'm blaming it on RL and Adele the Muse, who can be lazy._**

Reid stuffed one hand into his pocket and wished he'd remembered his gloves as he carried his gift for Chriscelia away from the flower shop. At least, he had his faithful, purple scarf around his neck. He hurried across the parking lot in the fading afternoon light to his new SUV. He passed several people, also walking with their heads set against the bitter cold of the February day. He drew in a breath and watched it leave his nose on his exhale as a visible mist. He smelled car exhaust and the clean scent of newly fallen snow. He shivered and stamped his feet when he reached his new vehicle.

After unlocking the car and sliding in behind the wheel, he pushed the button that started the engine and smiled as it powered on without a hitch. Still, he did feel a bit of longing for the capriciousness of his old Volvo. Sometimes, in the middle of a winter such as this, he never knew if the engine might start on the first try. "Nope," he said to the interior of the car. "This is better."

One thing about the new vehicle that was miles better than the Volvo was the heater. It warmed him almost at once and made him sigh with gratitude. He pulled his phone from his pocket and hit the contact button for Chriscelia. She didn't answer, which wasn't unusual if she'd decided on an afternoon nap. Still, she usually didn't sleep this late.

"Stop worrying," he scolded his reflection in the rearview mirror after he'd left her a message. "She's fine. Go home, and you'll see."

Reid pulled out of the parking lot and into traffic. He turned right and drove through glittering headlights that made the pavement shimmer in the late afternoon shadows. A light snow began to fall, and he sighed again. He couldn't wait to get home to his wife and bask in the warmth of her love and her arms.

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Jody Fitzgerald hurried as fast as her booted feet could go down her driveway to the mailbox. If she hadn't had to take Goober, her schnauzer, to the vet, she wouldn't be so far behind schedule. Her gray-streaked hair blew around her face, and she shivered in the wind as it flapped her blue sweater around her middle. The sweater had stretched out with repeated use, but it was warm if the wind didn't blow.

"Of course," she said to a car that drove past. "No mail just because I come out in this cold weather. "Should've waited for John to come home."

Speaking of her husband, she wondered as she turned back toward her house if he were stuck on a job, or in traffic again. Another three years, she thought wistfully, and they could retire to somewhere warm like Hawaii, or someplace in the Caribbean. The thought of sun, sand and warm tropical winds in her hair made her smile. A little place on a white sand beach was just the ticket. She'd stay there and never see another winter.

She tucked her hands into her pockets and glanced over at her neighbor's house. Such a lovely young couple was the Reids. They were so kind and helpful. Young Mrs. Reid - was her name Christine or Cecilia- no that wasn't right, was so nice. Every time she went to the market, she'd stop in and ask if she could pick up anything for the Fitzgerald family. Jody liked a helpful nature in a young person, it was a quality sorely lacking in the under thirty crowd, at least in her experience.

Jody stopped her musings when she realized in the low light of the afternoon that the front door of the Reid house stood wide open. Her eyes narrowed in surprise. Mrs. Reid wouldn't leave the door open like that. Maybe she'd go over and see if everything was okay. Mrs. Reid was pregnant and a perhaps she'd passed out or -she shook her head and began to walk back to the sidewalk at the bottom of the driveway.

"You're borrowing trouble again," she told herself, severely. "Stop it."

Still, she hesitated and turned to watch the door. Perhaps Mrs. Reid had gone out to shop and had to make more than one trip into the house. Leaving the door open while quickly leaving the groceries inside might be – she shook her head again. No, she'd watched for more than two minutes now, and no one moved near the open door. Her pulse tripped again, and she felt lightheaded.

 _Something is wrong!_

She pulled her phone from her pocket, a cell phone that John insisted she carried with her everywhere.

" _You never know what could happen. You could fall, or get mugged."_

Jody had responded with a derisive snort. "A nice way to look at life."

Now she was glad she had the phone as she tried Mrs. Reid's number, but no one answered. "Something's wrong," she muttered again, as the wind picked up and began to moan through the trees. The light faded to purple shadows on the fallen snow. Her boots squeaked on the patches left on the sidewalk from John's shoveling. "Good thing they're new," she said breathlessly into the wind as another car passed on the street, it's headlights passing over her like the backwash of a spotlight on a stage.

She reached the back of Mrs. Reid's car and looked at the open front door. It was black dark inside and for the first-time fear overcame her and made her stop and lean on the car. She swallowed, thought hard and decided. Dr. Reid was an FBI agent. On television, the cops never walked into an open door without a weapon. Perhaps she should call the cops or Dr. Reid before going inside.

She shivered with cold and with a growing edge of fear she couldn't explain. If she called the police and Mrs. Reid was okay- no, she's not okay. No one leaves a door open in twenty-five-degree weather unless they're loopy and Mrs. Reid was not loopy.

She was about to call Dr. Reid when she heard a car. She turned as z vehicle she didn't recognize pulled into the driveway behind her. Its lights dazzled her, and for a moment, she nearly ran, then she realized that her legs refused to move. It was as if they had concrete for shoes. Her heart pounded in her chest and sent blood rushing to her head as someone shut off the engine and got out of the car.

She couldn't see the face of the person, and she was about to try and run, again, when a voice said. "Mrs. Fitzgerald, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, Dr. Reid," she nearly collapsed as her teeth chattered from relief and fear. "I saw your front door open, and I came to see –"

"The front door," Reid almost snapped. His face whitened in the last of the sunlight, and he put a hand on her shoulder. "I'll take care of this. Go back home and don't worry."

He withdrew his gun from his holster and Jody winced. "Okay," she agreed and began to make her way back to her house. She looked over her shoulder when she reached the sidewalk at the end of the Reid family driveway and watched Dr. Reid slowly enter his house. She shivered again because suddenly he resembled a small child entering the mouth of a dark and forbidden mountain cave, where a monster waited to devour.

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Reid stopped on the threshold of his home and tried to see into the entryway, but the streetlights threw shadows that engulfed the hallway, and he began to feel as though a presence stood just beyond the door, waiting for him to enter.

"Stop it," he said, firmly.

He entered resolutely, and with his back to one wall, moving sideways into the entryway. His eyes fell on the display of their new alarm system. It flashed green, and his heart thumped. Chriscelia must've entered the code, disabling the system, but why leave the door wide open. He reached for the lights, and they flared to life. He blinked and berated himself for his stupidity. He was half-blind, in an unknown situation and without backup. What if she'd fallen, and couldn't move, he wondered as he began to clear the house. She might be sick. Call out to her and find out.

He didn't call out. Instead, he cleared each room as fast as he dared, beginning with the upstairs rooms. He found Chriscelia's office empty, and the sight of a copy of her new book nearly made him give in to the panic lodged in his throat.

He moved back down the stairs, slowly, with his back again to the wall, and then around the corner to the great room. A notebook lay on the coffee table, and he knew it contained the beginning of an outline for a new Agent Riser book. He swallowed hard and turned, his eyes falling on one of his sweaters tossed over a chair where he'd left it.

" _Spencer, will you please hang your sweater in the closet."_

He heard it as clearly as if she stood there with irritation in her eyes because once again, he'd left an article of clothing in the great room. If only she were there, berating him. He'd hold on to her until she pushed him away out of the need to breathe. He'd never leave the house again.

He checked the kitchen, but she wasn't there, and finally, he went to the nursery, and their bedroom. He should've cleared those rooms first because someone could've snuck up behind him, but he hadn't thought. The nursery was clear, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he entered the bedroom.

Chriscelia had placed candles around, ready for lighting, and there was something in the middle of the bed. It was a box wrapped in scarlet paper with a silver ribbon and a white card attached. He swallowed again as tears filled his eyes. "Chriscelia," he shouted, but he already knew she wouldn't answer. Their home lacked a certain warmth and joy when she wasn't there.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Emily's number. "Emily."

"Reid?"

"Yeah."

"What's wrong," she demanded. "You sound terrible."

"She's gone."

" _Who's_ gone."

"Chriscelia. I came home, and the door was wide open. It was dark, Emily. Her car is here, but she's gone. How can she be gone without a car? I don't understand."

"Spence…"

"I should go look for her. She might be hurt or –"

"Reid," Emily snapped. "Stay there. I'm calling the police and then the team. We'll be there as fast as we can."

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Spencer hurried from his bedroom and took the stairs, two at a time to the second floor. He sat at his desk and powered up his laptop. Accessing the security tapes from the front of the house seemed to take forever. He ran back the recording watching images fly by until he saw Chriscelia. Her face, pale as milk in the black and white playback glanced up to the camera in the doorway. He swallowed hard against tears as she stared up with an expression of stark terror in her eyes, then down at the person holding a very large gun pointed directly… he pushed his chair away so hard, it flew back on its rollers and hit the edge of the door jam. He barely felt the jolt because a white-hot rage such as nothing he'd ever felt heated his blood to the point he felt as though he had a high fever.

"No," he shouted, and it filled the office with his misery.

He forced himself to push back to his desk and inspect the tape. He ran it back and watched the delivery person, approach the door. He didn't realize it was a woman until she pushed the doorbell, then looked up as though she knew exactly where to look and find the lens of the camera. She smiled, and it was the smile of a stone killer, a predator about to spring and catch all of them unaware. Spencer went cold instead of hot when he realized the identity of the woman. Confusion overrode everything, and he sat up straight in his chair. It couldn't be her. Why? How? It'd been years, yet there she was holding a gun on his wife, and as she looked at the camera once again, he remembered her name.


	30. Chapter 30

**_Disclaimer: see my profile._**

 ** _A/n here's the next chapter everyone. Please enjoy. Thank you again for your support._**

To Emily, Reid's home exuded warmth, despite the pain she knew she'd encounter upon entering its door. She saw that Reid had turned on every light in the house, and the golden glow welcomed, rather than repelled. She glanced at Rossi, who grimaced and said. "Welcome home."

"He said the house was dark when he arrived."

"All the lights are on now," Rossi said unnecessarily.

"Doesn't surprise me," Emily said. "You know how much he hates darkness."

"I know that if we don't find Chriscelia that we'll lose him forever. He'll retreat and never come back."

"He's strong," Luke said from the back seat.

"Everyone has their limits," Rossi snapped. "You push anyone far enough, and they _will_ break."

"Let's go," Emily opened her door as a second SUV and two police vehicles pulled in behind them, with their red and blue lights sweeping over the snow in rotating flashes of light.

"How do you want to do this?" JJ asked.

"We know he's there. I'll knock."

"What if he doesn't answer?"

Emily regarded Rossi for a moment. "I know Reid. No matter what, he would have cleared the house when he went inside."

"He didn't know what he was walking into, Emily. He could have made a mistake, been forced to call us. I'm just saying we need to be cautious."

"I know, Dave, and we will. I'll go in first if he doesn't answer. JJ, you, and Tara go around to the back door. Wait for my signal before you enter."

"Got it," Tara said, as JJ nodded in agreement.

They went, as a force that included Garcia, who'd refused to remain at Quantico. They hurried up the walkway, and Emily slowly entered with her gun drawn when Reid did not answer their knocks or their calls. She reached for the security panel and entered a four-digit code. The screen turned green and blinked twice, then switched off.

"Reid gave me the code," Emily said to Rossi. "He wanted me to have it in case of trouble. I had hoped I'd never have to use it."

"Good," Rossi said. "Let's clear the house and find Reid."

"I hope he's okay," Luke commented.

"Me too."

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Spencer knew he should be searching for the one who'd destroyed his world, but he couldn't force his legs and feet to stand. Instead, he played the recording of Chriscelia and her kidnapper, repeatedly.

The full color, high definition replay, haunted Spencer like the memory of a nightmare in the harsh morning light. He pushed a key to return to the moment Chriscelia realized that the person who stood on their porch - Spencer blew out an explosive breath and fisted his hands until the bite of his nails forced pain into his palms -wasn't there to deliver flowers.

Spencer stared at the frozen face of his enemy as she smiled at the camera. Why? After ten long years, why now? Why Chriscelia? Why not come at him directly?

Spencer played the recording again from the time the white delivery truck pulled to the curb and parked. He focused so intently on the screen, he didn't realize the passage of time or hear his team when they entered the house.

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Emily, with Luke, Tara, JJ, and Rossi, cleared the house quickly. They called out FBI and Spencer's name, but no one answered. Emily gestured to the two police officers who entered the house that she intended to go upstairs. The police stood at the bottom of the stairs with Garcia, who looked out of place with her bright yellow sweater, pink flowered skirt, pink coat and a bulletproof vest Emily had insisted she add for safety.

Emily swung around at the top of the stairs and called out again. "Reid, its Emily. Answer me."

Light poured out of Reid's office, and she edged toward the door with her back to the wall. She stopped at the door and glanced back to see Rossi behind her. He nodded and crossed to the other side of the hallway as she entered fast with her gun out. She stopped short and cursed. "Jesus, Spence. Didn't you hear us?"

When Reid didn't look up, even when Rossi called to him, Emily raised her eyebrows and leaned down to touch his shoulder. Reid didn't flinch. He sat, and stared at a computer screen with the eyes of someone pushed past the limits of their endurance.

"Go get JJ," Emily hissed at Rossi.

"Spence," she tried again. JJ flinched when Spencer lifted a hand and touched the keyboard of his computer. He didn't move toward her or make any sign that he could hear her speak, or that he knew she'd entered the room.

"Hey, it's Emily. We're here to help you, Reid."

She backed away and shook her head at JJ and Garcia when they entered the room. "He won't respond. He's retreated."

"We have to do something," Garcia said, with fear riding in her eyes.

"Yes, we do. JJ, try to talk to him. We need to get him out of here. Garcia, can you start with Chriscelia's office. See if you can find her phone."

"I'm on it," she assured Emily after one last look at Reid.

JJ stepped forward and put a hand on Reid's shoulder. "Hey, Spence. It's JJ. The team's all here for you. We'll find Chriscelia. I _promise_ you."

Reid reacted with such force; he nearly knocked JJ to the ground as he came to his feet in a rage. "Don't make promises you can't keep, JJ. Do you see what's on that screen? Lindsey's pointing a Desert Eagle .50 caliber at _my_ wife. That's point-blank range, and that gun's a cannon. Do you know what that would do to my wife and my child?"

Spencer's face turned white, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. He shoved JJ aside, nearly pushing her into the edge of his desk, and fled the room. Emily and JJ rushed after him but stopped when they heard him in the bathroom, retching.

"My God," JJ whispered, her face as pale as cream. "My God," she repeated. "Emily… what do we do? He's losing it."

"That's why I called you up here. You can talk Reid off the ledge, JJ."

Garcia hurried out of Chriscelia's office "What's wrong?"

"Go back," Emily snapped, then smiled and apologized when Garcia's face turned red and tears filled her eyes. "I'm sorry, Penelope. Please go back inside. JJ's going to talk to Spencer."

Garcia returned to Chriscelia's office in silence and Emily nodded to JJ, who tapped on the bathroom door after the toilet flushed and water began to run in the sink. She entered without waiting for a reply and found Reid standing with wet hands and a damp face as he stared into the mirror.

"Spence," she said and staggered when he grabbed her into a hard embrace.

"Why, JJ. Why did this happen? What did I do wrong?"

"You did nothing wrong, Spencer Reid. Do you hear me?"

Spencer pulled back and nodded as he wiped at his face with his wet fingers. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize."

"I don't understand why this is happening. Why does Lindsey Vaughn want to hurt me? We haven't had contact in ten years, JJ."

"Lindsey Vaughn? Are you sure, Spence?"

Spencer took her hand and pulled her along with him. "Yes. I've never been more certain about anything in my life. It's her, but what I don't understand, is why?"

JJ let him tow her back to his office where Emily sat at the computer. "It's Lindsey Vaughn," Spencer said again. "I recognize her."

JJ and Emily watched the screen until the end when Lindsey forced Chriscelia at gunpoint to enter the van and then they drove away.

"It does look like her, but we need to confirm her identity," Emily said. "I'm going to ask Luke to use his contact at WitSec to help us."

Spencer sat when Emily left the room. "I can't go through this again, JJ. I can't lose my family."

"You won't because none of us will give up."

"She's right," Garcia said from the doorway. "I can't find Chriscelia's phone, which means she probably had it when – oh, Sweetcheeks, I'm sorry."

She moved into hug Reid, but he held out a warning hand. "Not yet, Garcia. If I do, I'll break down, and I need to find my family."

Penelope nodded, but her eyes shined with tears. "We will."

"I hope you're right."

"I am. Now, I need to look at your computer and the security footage."

Reid moved aside to let her do her job, but his eyes remained on the screen until Garcia did something to change it to a black screen and code that moved so fast, he could barely keep up with it even with his speed reading prowess. He knew she was looking for something buried in the code, but he couldn't force his brain to comprehend it's meaning.

"Come on," JJ said and tugged on his hand. "Let's leave her to her work."

Reid nodded. "I know you guys want to question me. I'll try to answer as coherently as I can."

"You don't have to do this now."

"Yes, I do, Emily. You know I do. Time is running out."

"Lindsey won't kill Chriscelia, Reid. She has something else planned."

Spencer shrugged. "I know, but what I can't figure out, is why or what. I got in her way ten years ago, when she was a teenager, and she wanted her father to kill her rapist and kidnapper, but it was insignificant."

They entered the great room and found the rest of the team. Spencer almost smiled because he could see they were trying to look as if they hadn't been looking over the room.

"You okay," Tara asked.

"I'm not sure."

"It looks like Lindsey Vaughn forced Chriscelia at gunpoint, to leave with her."

"Lindsey Vaughn," chorused Rossi, Luke, and Tara.

Emily might've laughed had not the situation been so dire for Spencer. "Why Lindsey," Rossi asked before the others could speak. "That was ten years ago."

"What was ten years ago?" Luke asked.

"It's an old case. Two girls kidnapped and raped. One of the girls was murdered. We discovered that the second girl, Lindsey Vaughn was in witness protection with her father."

"Jack Vaughn was an enforcer for the mob. He got to the kidnapper just before we did and after a bit of a stand-off with Reid, he killed the kidnapper. He shot him at close range with a shotgun, in front of his daughter."

"Reid tried to stop him, but Lindsey encouraged him."

"She was a teenager at the time," Emily said. "She knew what her father did before entered the witness protection plan. She knew he'd pull the trigger."

"Are we saying that she's held a grudge for ten years because Reid tried to stop Jack."

"Yes," Reid spoke up. "She's a daddy's girl, and judging by what I saw on the monitor, she's walking in daddy's shoes. It was the same look in her eyes that I saw in Jack's when he shot her attacker."

"I still don't understand why she waited ten years. If she's still angry, why wait?"

"I think I can answer that," Garcia said.

They turned as one to see Garcia, her bulletproof vest in one hand and Reid's laptop in the other. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright. "I found a video message on this," she tapped the laptop. "You're not going to like it."


	31. Chapter 31

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

 ** _A/n Happy New Year to all my readers and friends. May this year bring you good things and happiness._**

Silence reigned in the Great Room for moments that dragged out like hours. Emily studied Reid who stared at Garcia with eyes that begged for answers, but also denied his pain.

"What did you find?" Emily asked.

"There's a video file attached to an email that arrived about five minutes ago."

"What does it say?" Reid said, hollowly.

Garcia flicked her eyes toward Emily, who nodded. Garcia brought the laptop to Reid's steel and glass coffee table. She opened it as he sat, bookended by Emily and JJ. Rossi, Luke, and Tara stood behind the sofa and Garcia began the playback.

The room had no visible identifying features. It was block and mortar, with a concrete floor, and a chair in the middle under a single light bulb. Emily flinched in pain when Reid took her hand and squeezed it so hard; she thought he might break her fingers.

Chriscelia sat in the chair with her arms pulled behind the back. Tears dripped from her lashes, and she flinched away when another woman walked up beside her with a large gun in her hand. "Tell him, or I'll shoot you where you sit, bitch."

"Spencer…"

Reid said nothing, but his face resembled the clean bone of a de-fleshed corpse. He held onto Emily's hand and stared at the screen of the laptop.

"Say it," Lindsey ordered and shoved the gun into Chriscelia's temple.

"She says it's your fault, Spencer. Chriscelia paused defiantly," No, I won't say it," she wailed when Lindsey pushed the muzzle of the gun deeper into her skin.

"I won't tell you again," Lindsey threatened with dark, emotionless eyes.

No, that wasn't right, Reid thought as he watched them. There was something in her eyes that he thought he recognized, but the insight slipped away when Chriscelia began to cry.

"You t-took w-what s-she l-loves m-most and its t-time f-for y-you t-to p-pay." Chriscelia continued in a voice that shook so badly; they could barely understand her words.

Abruptly, Lindsey stepped back from Chriscelia, and she smiled. Her expression sent chills in waves across Spencer's back and down his legs. "You're little wifey, and the kid has exactly twenty-four hours to live. You better move fast."

The feed cut off and the screen went as black the winter night. Reid blinked and looked at JJ. She shook her head and squeezed his free hand. "We won't let her hurt Chriscelia?"

"You can't stop her," he said in a reasonable tone. "She wants me to witness the loss of all I ever loved."

"Why," Rossi said. "What did you do?"

Luke's phone beeped, and he stepped away from the sofa. He spoke for a brief time, then returned to the group. "That was my contact at WitSec. Lindsey left the program five years ago. My friend claims they don't know where she is, but I don't believe him."

"What about Jack?"

"He's still in the program and living in Wisconsin."

"We have to talk to him." Reid insisted.

"We will," Tara assured him.

"In time to save my wife," Reid demanded. "Twenty-four hours isn't much time."

"Spencer," Emily drew him aside. "I know you're in hell right now, but –"

"You don't know anything," he yanked his arm from her hand and began to pace like a trapped animal. "I swore to protect her," he shouted, his face scarlet with rage. His dark eyes flashed, and his breath came in gasps. "I promised her I'd never let anything happen to her or our daughter and look what happened," he put his hands over his face and began to sob.

Emily glanced at JJ and Garcia who were gaping in surprise. Tara and Luke looked at each other, and Rossi cleared his throat.

"Spencer, the baby is a girl. You didn't tell us. That's wonderful."

"Yeah, it's wonderful," he spat out. "What if I can't save them? What if I never hold my daughter, or see her face and touch the softness of her skin? I can't face that outcome, Dave."

JJ hugged him tight until he stopped shaking. He pulled away and wiped at his bloodshot and exhausted eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Emily said. "Let's get to work and find them."

"Where do we begin, Emily. Can you tell me that?"

Emily surveyed his face and ignored the bite of his words and the anguish in his eyes. "We start with Lindsey. Garcia, dig into her life. I want to know everything there is to know about her from the time we first encountered her ten years ago. We need to find a pressure point."

"We already have it," Reid said flatly. "Her father. She's a daddy's girl, right. Let's talk to him."

"Rossi and I will go," Luke said in a tone that held off any protest.

"You stay here, kid," Rossi said, quietly as he laid a hand on Reid's shoulder. "Take care of yourself."

"I'm trying," Reid said, and tears filled his exhausted eyes. "I can't stop working. I need them, Dave. I have to keep going."

"Chriscelia and that little girl need you healthy," Rossi continued. "Get some rest and let us do what we need to do."

Reid watched Luke and Rossi step away to speak with Emily, Tara, and JJ. He knew they talked about him, but it didn't matter. He wouldn't stop until he found Lindsey and made her pay. Emily glanced at him once and smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. He turned away and hurried into his bedroom beyond the baby's new nursery.

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"Tara," Emily said, "I need you to work up a psychological profile on Lindsey. I know we don't have much to go on, but because we know who has Chriscelia we need more than the generalities of an un-sub that commits this type of kidnapping."

"You came to the right place. I'm on it."

"Let's get out of here and go back to the bureau. The last thing we need to do is turn Reid's home into a de-facto office."

"You think he won't try to tag along," Rossi said, knowingly.

"No, because I'm going to stay with him," JJ said. "I'm not budging until we have the answer. It's the least I can do."

Emily nodded her support. "That was going to be my next suggestion. He needs someone here with him."

"Then let's go," Rossi said. "Let's find Lindsey and put an end to all of this."

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JJ entered the nursery and looked around the room. She smiled and swallowed hard at the décor around her. A crib, painted white stood at one end of the room. It looked like the 3 in 1 type she and Will had bought for Michael. It started as a crib, that could be converted to a toddler bed and then a big kid bed. She went to the crib and touched the bedding, still folded, but in the crib as if two first time parents eagerly awaited the time to make up the bed for a beautiful baby girl. JJ swallowed hard again and touched the black, white, and grey kitten embroidered on a pink and white background. The kitten appeared to be gazing at a bright blue butterfly in flight near its head.

JJ turned from the crib and surveyed the room with its pink walls and matching curtains. A rug with the letters of the alphabet lay on the hardwood floor, and a glider rocker stood in one corner opposite a changing table, and dresser also painted white. It was a beautiful and inviting room. JJ couldn't bear to think that it might go unoccupied. Her shoulders went up at the thought, and she wiped at her eyes. She wouldn't let Spence lose his family. She'd work until she dropped if necessary because he'd do the same for her.

JJ took another long look around the room and went to the door that led to the master bedroom. It was halfway open, so she knocked and waited.

"Come in," said Spencer, but she almost didn't recognize his voice.

"Hey," she said softly and found him standing and staring at a wrapped box on the bed.

"We agreed not buy gifts for Valentine's Day. Chriscelia told me that agreeing to be the inspiration for Agent Riser was gift enough for her this year. Oh god, I haven't looked at the best-seller list yet. I should check it so that I can – "

He stopped, put his hands to his face and began to sob so hard his entire body shook. JJ wrapped him up in her arms and let him cry until he stopped shaking. "I'm sorry," he said as he pulled away.

"Why? My God, Spencer. You have every right to cry."

"It doesn't do any good," he insisted as he wiped at his red eyes. "I'm standing here crying when I should be out there," he began to turn to the door.

JJ stopped him with a hand to his chest. "What good will you do them if you just walk out into the cold with no plan or no place to start, Spence?"

Reid sighed and put a shaking hand on the bridge of his nose. "I want to tell you; you're wrong. I want to get angry and yell and tell you to mind your business, but I can't because you're right, JJ. I must come up with a plan. I only wish I knew what that plan might be."

"We'll solve it the way we always solve our cases, with profiling."

"I'm not sure I can, JJ. How do I come up with victimology, when it's my family that's the victims?"

"Why don't we sit and hash it out?"

JJ sat on the bench at the foot of the bed and Reid perched on the bed next to the gift he'd found. His hand reached for it; then he pulled away as if it were red-hot coals in a fireplace.

"I'm not sure where to begin."

"Let's start with Chriscelia. Has she complained about unusual fan mail or any strange calls."

"No. The only incident was the super fans that followed me."

"We know that Lindsey had to be watching you. She picked the perfect time to grab Chriscelia, while you were gone."

"Are you saying I missed something?"

"No," JJ insisted. "Spence, I'm not blaming you."

"Why not?" He nearly shouted. "I blame me. I should've been here and – oh god, I should've listened to my instincts."

"Spence, what is it?"

He tore his eyes away from the gift on the bed. "The other day when I went to the anatomy screening for the baby. When I went out to the parking lot, I thought I felt something."

"Like what," JJ probed.

"A back of the neck feeling you get when someone is watching you. I thought I was paranoid because of the fans incident and I didn't want to scare Chriscelia. We talked about it and decided not to worry. How could I do that? I should've gone to the team."

"What could we do," JJ played devil's advocate. "You had a feeling, and coming so close behind the fan incident. We would've agreed with you that it was nothing."

Spencer blew out a breath. "You're right. JJ, what am I going to do. I can't concentrate."

"I think you should open Chriscelia's gift. You keep looking at it."

"We're in the middle of an investigation, JJ. You want me to open a Valentine gift."

"Yes," she assured him with a hand on his arm. "Open it. It might help for you to see what she wanted you to have on this day."

He pulled the box forward the picked it up. He ripped off the bright red paper and the gold ribbon. He tossed away the ripped paper and took the top off the box. He reached inside and removed an object inside the box. It was a stuffed, black cat with a red ribbon around its neck.

"Interesting gift," JJ began, then stopped when Reid pulled out an envelope with his name written on the front.

"That's not Chriscelia's handwriting."

"What?" JJ began. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," he said and opened the envelope.


	32. Chapter 32

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

Reid opened the white envelope and removed a folded sheet of paper. The envelope dropped from his fingers and landed on the duvet. His eyes darted across the note. He looked up at JJ, and for the first time since they'd entered his home, the light of action flared in his eyes.

"I know who's behind this."

"What are you talking about, Spence?"

"Read it," he thrust the paper into her hands.

JJ lifted her eyebrows and took the note. She read it carefully with growing disbelief and anger in her eyes.

 _Dear Spencer,_

 _Happy Valentine's Day. I know your baby girl will love this cat. It should match nicely with the décor of the nursery. I'm so sorry I'm unable to convey my congratulations in person, but I'm sure you'll forgive me. We'll see each other soon._

 _Cat._

"I don't believe this. Cat Adams? What does she have to do with Lindsey Vaughn?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out. I've been wallowing for long enough, JJ. "

JJ studied the gift box then appeared to think for a long moment while Reid watched her carefully. "What are you thinking?" He asked, quietly.

"She's been in your house. How?"

"She must've been here before I installed the new security system."

"What about this gift? Where did it come from?"

Spencer shook his head. "I remember yesterday, that Chriscelia received a delivery. It was a box large enough to hold this gift. She assumed it was advance copies of her book and put it aside to open later. I didn't question it. We should've opened it yesterday. I could have prevented this."

"Spence," JJ pulled his attention back to the room. "You can't start second-guessing. You had every right to think what you did and respond accordingly."

"I don't know, JJ."

"I _do_ know. Cat took a huge chance sending this to you," JJ swept her hand over the cat. "What if you had opened it and realized her plan?"

"It's part of the thrill for her. She got lucky, end of story."

"You're not cursed, Spence."

Reid bowed his head. "You always know what I'm thinking."

"Well, yeah. I've known you for nearly fifteen years."

Reid finally laughed, a little and then sighed. "Why did this happen, JJ? I was finally happy. I still miss my mom, but the pain lessens with every day I have Chriscelia. I love her more than I thought I could love another person. Now, I'm going to be a father, and I love my little girl so much it hurts. I can't lose them."

"Then as you said, _stop_ wallowing and get to work."

Reid opened his mouth as color washed over his face and receded. He laughed again and shook his head. "Again, you know the right thing to say."

"It's a gift," JJ deadpanned and made him chuckle.

His face sobered and he drew in a deep breath. "I want to kill them, JJ. I know I can't get to Cat, but if Lindsey touches one hair on Chriscelia's head…"

JJ simply nodded and rose to her feet. "I won't try to talk you out of it. I nearly lost Will six years ago. I know how you feel."

"No, you don't, but I know you understand. Let's go. We need to find Lindsey."

"You surprise me, Spence. I thought the first thing you'd want to do is hop the jet to MPWCF."

"No," Reid said, flatly. "I'm not giving her the satisfaction."

"Do you think that's wise?"

"I'm not playing her game a third time, JJ."

"Alright, it's up to you."

They left the bedroom and JJ followed Reid back into the living area. He stopped and looked around as if he didn't know why he'd entered the room.

"Spence, are you okay." JJ touched his shoulder when he stopped near the window that looked out on the backyard of the house.

"Yeah, for a minute I forgot that the team left and I'm here without my family."

He turned and looked at JJ who gave him a sad smile. "I'm here," she reminded him.

He finally smiled. "I'm sorry, JJ. You've always been here for me. I'm not thinking."

"Hey," she squeezed his shoulder. "I'm not offended. You're my best friend, Spence. Let's find Chriscelia and end this."

"Question? Why Chriscelia? Lindsey said I took what she loved best, away. _Why?_ Her father's fine and living in Wisconsin when he should be in a prison cell."

JJ studied Reid for a minute. "You're the victim Reid, even more then Chriscelia."

Reid cocked his head. "Go on."

"Well, if we ask the question why this person at this time, you're the one that we have to look at. Lindsey said you took what she loved most. It's not her father, and we know Cat's involved. She and Cat must know each other from before we arrested Cat. We never identified Lindsey as part of the Dirty Dozen. We need to consider it."

"Are you saying that you think Lindsey and Cat have a romantic relationship?"

"If you remove Lindsey's father from the question, it's the only thing that makes sense."

"How can you be sure?"

"Call it a hunch."

"I'm not sure I can believe in hunches."

"I know you're more comfortable with facts and statistics, but you're also the one that puts it all together. I know you must have your share of gut feelings."

"Yes, but I try to back them with solid evidence."

"Sometimes you must believe," JJ said firmly. "What is the larger piece to the puzzle. Is it their relationship, or something else?

Reid's eyebrows went up, and he had chagrin in his eyes. "When Chriscelia asked me to be the inspiration for Agent Riser, she also asked me to help her with research for the character."

JJ nodded and tugged on his arm. She led him to the sofa, and they sat together. "You told me when she asked," she reminded him gently. "You were _very_ concerned about authenticity."

"I told her that in the FBI we don't solve a case as you see on television, that our cases aren't glamorous."

"That's for sure," JJ commented, drily.

"Chriscelia said she understood, but that she wanted the story to be more than technically perfect. She wanted Agent Riser to be a real person that resonated with her readers."

"I think I understand what you're saying."

"I don't think that Cat is capable of real feelings for anyone, but maybe Lindsey is despite becoming a contract killer. She was a normal teenager once who went through a terrible ordeal. It changed her."

"You think we can use their relationship, if there is one, against them."

"Yes, but I don't know how. _Yet._ "

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Garcia hurried down the hallway to the conference room. She barely acknowledged an agent who passed her with a load of file folders in his arms and a pencil perched behind his ear. She didn't have time for pleasantries or small talk.

"I think I found something," she announced to the team.

"What is it?" Emily asked as they all turned their attention to their favorite technical analyst.

"Lindsey's lived off the grid since she rejected WitSec's protection. I can't find digital fingerprints on any social media platform. She doesn't have a credit card, no home, car or utilities."

"How is she living," Tara wondered.

"I wanted to know the same thing, so I ran her prints from WitSec." She took the remote from the table and clicked it on. Several crime scene photos began to pop up on the whiteboard. "She's been a sick, busy beaver. I can trace more than two dozen contract killings to her. Her method of choice is a gunshot to the head with hollow point rounds, using the same gun connected to her father."

"She's a contract killer," Luke said. "I'm not sure I like where this is going."

"You shouldn't," Garcia said, briefly. "I found her fingerprints on the weapon used to kill Nadine Ramos in Mexico."

"The doctor Reid was going to see to obtain an experimental drug for his mother, but he backed out at the last minute," Emily said.

"Cat said in their last interview that she plotted to make Reid the fall guy for Dr. Ramos. If he'd gone as he planned…"

"He'd be in prison now," Emily finished. "Damn it!"

"Then Lindsey's the partner Cat talked about in the interview."

Rossi shook his head. "We should've followed up."

"I'm more concerned about how she and Cat are communicating. We know that Cat seduced a guard, who fathered her baby. Could she do the same with another after the shake-up in the Board of Prisons?"

"We need to find out. Garcia, will you dig into that and see what falls out."

"All the way to China and back if I have to," Garcia assured her boss. "Cat's reached the end of her nine lives."

Luke grinned at her, but she ignored him for her laptop. Tara shook her head, and Rossi chuckled. Only Emily remained sober. "You're right," Emily agreed. "It's time for her hold over Spencer to end, no matter what we have to do."

"I agree," said a voice from the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" Emily demanded of Reid as he and JJ entered the room.

"Don't look at me," JJ directed at the team. "I couldn't stop him, and I decided it was better not to try."

"You should be at home," Emily scolded, then she smiled. "We'll pretend I lectured you and you went right back to work."

"Thank you," Reid said with a sad smile.

Emily hugged him tightly. He clung to her for a brief time, then took his usual chair. "All right," Emily went to her place. "Let's find Chriscelia."

"I think we might have another piece to the puzzle. We think that Lindsey and Cat Adams were part of the Dirty Dozen together. We also think they had more than a professional relationship."

Garcia looked up from her computer. "You think they're lovers."

"We think it's possible. Lindsey said that Reid took away what she loved. If we can connect her to Cat before Cat went to prison, then we'd have a working theory," JJ supplied.

"I think you're right," Tara said. "I've been working on the psych profile of Lindsey, and as far as we know, she's never had a relationship outside of her father that accounts for this level of rage. I couldn't understand why she'd go this far after ten years, but this explains it."

"What else," Emily asked Tara.

"Only what I think you know, she's remorseless, and we must stop her, or she will carry out her endgame," Tara said while looking Reid straight in the eye.

Reid flinched but didn't look away from his friend. "Tara's right, but there is something else," he directed back at her.

"Yes," Tara agreed. "We can use it against her. We can also use Jack if it comes to that."

"Reid, I want you to work with Tara on a plan that uses either option. The rest of us will find where she's keeping Chriscelia. We know she's never killed in Virginia, so she'll need someplace like the cabin belonging to Lionel Wilkins."

"I have something," Garcia interposed. "I checked all of Lindsey's aliases, and she used multiple aliases to buy hollow point ammunition at Ford's Gun Shop."

"Rossi, you and Tara go."

"Right boss."

"I'll run with checking into the guards at Mount Pleasant," Luke said. "I'm sure they'll love hearing from us again."

"They'd better get their house in order," Emily said, "If they don't want us back."

"Emily, may I speak with you in private," JJ asked in a low voice as the others began to separate.

They left the conference room and Reid alone looking through file folders and constantly rubbing his eyes.

"He's beginning to break down."

"I know," Emily agreed.

"He told me that he wants to kill Cat and Lindsey."

"I don't blame him," Emily said. "We've got to find a way to make sure that Cat can't do this again. I just don't know how."

"What do we do, take his gun away, Emily. I understand how he feels, but we can't let him kill Lindsey in cold blood. You know he won't come back from that."

"We can't stop him, JJ. He must make that decision for himself, as much as we'd like to step in."

"I'll support him no matter what happens," JJ said loyally.

"As will I. She sighed then said "We'd better get back to work on this. Will you stay with Spencer," Emily asked?

"Until this is over, no matter how it plays."


	33. Chapter 33

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

 ** _A/n the dialog in the first part of this chapter is taken directly from "Red Light."_**

Tara looked around the dingy, poorly lit gun shop as she entered with Rossi right behind her. The man behind the counter wore a plaid shirt, jeans, and a scowl. She went directly to him and showed him a photo of Lindsey.

"Huh, nope." He said after a slight pause.

"You've _never_ seen this woman. She _never_ bought hollow point rounds from you." Tara asked.

"No ma'am."

"I see. See it's the way you said, "Huh?" It makes me think you have seen her; then you decided to cover and say no."

"Huh."

"Look, Mr. Ford, we appreciate that our kind isn't welcome around here." Rossi put in.

"Hey, I don't judge folks by the color of their skin."

"Well, I was thinking more us being federal agents. The last thing you want is your customers seeing you ratting them out to us."

"Something did bother you about this woman, like how she was so petite and yet so experienced around a hand cannon like a .50 caliber Desert Eagle. Or the fact that she used multiple identities when she was buying ammunition for it." Tara explained.

"Second. That's the amendment that guarantees my customers right to bear arms. Fifth! That's the amendment where my customers right to privacy is established. Griswold v Connecticut, I believe."

"She's a hit woman. We need to find her before she kills another victim." Tara said, her eyes boring in Mr. Ford like a laser.

"Hitwoman? Her? _Jesus_ wept, that's one hell of a story."

"Well, tell us another one then." Rossi requested.

"The reason that little miss has multiple IDs is that she's been harassed by bigots her entire life. Now she and her fiancé fell in love."

"Her fiancé? She was engaged?"

"Just as I don't judge race, I don't judge folks by who they love either. Now get the _hel_ l out of my store, cause unless there's a Supreme court case I haven't heard of, Obergefell V Hodges is still the law of the land."

Tara and Rossi left without another word until they reached the car. "JJ and Reid were right; they are romantically linked," Rossi observed.

"As Mr. Ford is so fond of saying. Huh?"

"I'd laugh if this weren't so urgent," Rossi retorted.

Tara strapped on her seatbelt. "Let's get back to Quantico and fill in the team."

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Luke pushed his cell phone into a pocket. "I can't get anywhere with the Board of Prisons or the unions. They don't want anything to do with us after the Wilkins fiasco."

"Don't worry about the Board of Prisons, "Garcia said as she entered the roundtable room with her laptop in one hand and an expression that said, "Don't ask me how I pulled off this latest scheme."

"What did you do?" Emily asked wearily but then held up a hand. "Wait, don't tell me. I want plausible deniability when OPR calls us in."

"They _won't_ ," Garcia assured her. "I know how to cover my tracks. I found two guards that fit the most likely suspect."

"You profiled," Luke asked with a grin.

"I do my own kind of profiling, newbie."

Luke raised his eyebrows at the nickname he hadn't heard for awhile and gave his attention to her method of profiling.

"I know you don't want the details of what I did, but suffice it to say I followed the footprints of Bud Johnson and Marlena Hernandez down the information superhighway. The search led me to a few interesting details that made me think one of them is the guard helping Cat with access to a phone and the internet."

"Tell us."

"Bud Johnson has a gambling problem. His bank accounts are constantly empty, and he's had a couple of run-ins with a loan shark known as Raymond the Rat. I won't bore you with how Mr. Rat got his nickname. If Cat promised him enough money to pay his debts, then he could be the one helping her."

"It's possible," Luke said. "If she told him she has someone on the outside that could pay whatever he asked."

"What about Miss Hernandez?" Emily asked.

"She has a reprimand on her record for inappropriate behavior of a sexual nature with another female inmate, but that was three years ago."

"Well, we know that Cat is good at seducing her accomplices," Emily said. "Maybe she seduced Miss Hernandez, too."

"Either way, we need to speak to both without interference from the union."

"Got it covered," Garcia said. "The head of the union agreed to both interviews, without restrictions on the questions."

"How did you pull that off," Luke wanted to know.

"If I told you that, I'd have to kill you."

Luke laughed, then sobered when JJ and Reid entered the room, followed by Tara and Rossi."

"We were right," Reid said.

"We spoke to Mr. Ford, and he confirmed it after mentioning Obergefell."

"The Supreme Court case that legalized gay marriage."

"Yes."

"They are lovers," JJ said. "That explains why Lindsey kidnapped Chriscelia. You took her love away," JJ directed to Reid. "Now she's taken yours away."

"I don't like where this is going," Emily pointed out.

"She wants to kill Chriscelia in front of me," Reid said. "It's the _only_ reason Chriscelia's still alive."

"Reid's right," Emily said. "Let's talk to the prison guards and find out which one is helping Cat."

"I want to be in on the interviews," Reid demanded of Emily.

"You can't," Emily said. "They'll have their representatives from the union, and you're the victim."

"Emily," Reid insisted with his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I _need_ to do this."

"No! Rossi and Tara will talk to Bud Johnson. JJ and I will take Marlena Hernandez. I want you and Luke to go over everything we have on both Cat and Lindsey. Find a way to get through to Lindsey by using her relationship with Cat."

Reid studied his boss for a long moment. His hands finally relaxed as he looked his Unit Chief in the eye. He said plainly. "You want me to talk her down."

"Yes."

"I want to kill her, Emily."

"I know."

Reid drew in a long breath, then blew it out explosively. "I'll do it, but if it comes down to a choice between my family and Lindsey…"

"I pull the trigger myself if I have to," Emily said.

"So, will I," Luke said and reached out to lay a hand on Reid's shoulder.

"I'll take her out if I have to," JJ said and put a hand on his opposite shoulder.

"You don't have to ask," Tara said, and Rossi simply winked at him as they all touched him and formed an awkward circle.

"We do whatever we can to end this peacefully," Emily said and laid a hand on his arm, "but we're all ready to take that step if we have to."

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Rossi left the interrogation room after an hour and shook his head as Tara followed him and shut the door. "He's not the one."

"No, he's too hung up on keeping his job to help someone like Cat," Tara agreed. "Where does that leave us."

"I'm going to observe Emily and JJ," Rossi said, and Tara smirked at the interest in his eyes.

"You just want to see three women argue over a possible lesbian seduction."

Rossi stopped in his tracks and turned a stern eye on his teammate. "I resent that remark in the highest degree. I _am_ a professional."

Tara sniggered. "Right, sorry. I forgot I was talking to a man three times divorced and responsible for all the non-fraternization rules at the BAU."

Rossi shook his head. "Can't a man mature?"

Tara cocked her head and regarded him for a moment. "Yes, they can, but you, I'm not so sure."

Rossi chuckled. "You may know me too well. Don't tell Hayden I said that."

"What's it worth to you?"

Rossi sighed. "As soon as the weather cooperates, I'll take you on another road trip in my car with Sinatra on the radio, and I'll throw in lunch."

"You got a deal."

"Good, now can we go observe."

Tara laughed again and followed him down the hallway to another interrogation room.

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Laughter didn't have a place in the room with JJ, Emily, Marlena Hernandez and her rep, a short woman with graying black hair, startling blue eyes, and a grim expression.

"I told you my client isn't answering questions about her personal life. There's no relevance for such questions."

"There is when we're trying to locate the fiancé of one of your inmates," said Emily to Hernandez, who sat staring at her with a defiant expression in her dark eyes.

She wore her hair back in a braid down her back. She was about average height, with an hourglass figure, and high cheekbones any fashion model would die for. She was much too pretty for a correctional officer, which put JJ on high alert.

"Look, we know you had a reprimand on your record for inappropriate behavior with a female inmate. You were caught in the prison laundry after lights out."

"That charge is three years old, and my client has had an exemplary record since then."

" _Or_ , just more careful," JJ suggested. "The incident from three years ago appears to be consensual, just bad judgment. Maybe you switched to intimidation to get off."

"I don't need a prison inmate to get off," Marlena laughed, and her dark eyes went cold. "I'm not desperate and three years ago, was a stupid mistake."

"Marlena," admonished the lawyer.

"Shut up," said Marlena. "I can get any woman I want anytime," she winked at Emily. "I like tall dark and gorgeous."

"And, I like men," Emily shot back.

"I like feisty, too."

"Officer Hernandez," JJ interrupted. "I don't think you appreciate your position. You have a history of inappropriate behavior with inmates. The wife of a federal agent is missing. The woman responsible claims to be engaged to Cat Adams."

Marlena Hernandez's dark eyes flashed with rage. "That's a fucking lie. Cat isn't engaged," she blurted out.

"Marlena!"

Hernandez turned to her lawyer. "Shut up! This bitch is lying and I – "

"Watch what you say to a federal agent."

Hernandez fisted her hands on the metal table between them. "What are you going to do about it?" She demanded.

"I'll let JJ kick your ass," Emily said quietly.

"I protest," began the lawyer.

"Get her out of here. I don't need her," Hernandez shouted over them.

"You heard her," JJ said as she stood. "Shall we."

JJ left with the lawyer, who protested until the closing door cut her off in mid-tirade. "Now," said Emily. "You'll deal with me."

"Sure thing, mi Linda."

"Tell me everything you know about Cat and her plans for Dr. Spencer Reid."

"I don't know anything about some doctor. Cat wanted a phone and a tablet, so I got them for her."

"Despite protocol," Emily said and sat back in her chair. "This is the second time you've violated it. Do you think there won't be consequences?"

"I don't care," Marlena said and looked Emily up and down. "Cat's nothing special. She promised me _big_ money to help her. I don't need this idiotic job."

"Cat doesn't have money stashed away as she claims. Her one obsession is getting her revenge on a federal agent. If we can prove you helped her orchestrate the kidnapping, then you're going down. You know what happens to cop in lockup."

Emily watched something like fear enter Marlena's eyes and push out the casual flirtation and boredom she'd shown since entering the interrogation room.

"That goes for former prison guards, as well," Emily said casually. "How long do you think you'd last?"

Marlena narrowed her eyes then blew out a breath. Her bravado faded, and she said in a low voice. "What do you want from me?"

"I want to know everything Cat's said to you since you transferred to maximum security."

"She didn't like to talk if you know what I mean."

Emily shook her head and leaned forward in her seat. "No more games, Hernandez."

"All right. All Cat ever talked about was Dr. Reid. Even when she was pregnant, all she wanted to do was get off and talk about him. I didn't care because talking about him and how one day she'd make him suffer always made her hot. I liked it," she winked at Emily.

"What else?" Emily pushed.

"She said she had someone on the outside that had a place where they could hide in plain sight, and no one would bother them."

"Where?"

Hernandez laughed. "Why right here in Quantico, of course."


	34. Chapter 34

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

"Quantico," JJ scoffed. "You're crazy. How could a known hit woman get past security?"

Marlena smirked and began to study the chips in her fingernails. "I'm not sayin another word without a guarantee of immunity."

"No," Emily said, firmly. "No deals."

"Then you'll never find Dr. Reid's precious little wifey. Quantico's a _big_ place."

Emily didn't respond to the tap on the two-way glass behind her, but Marlena did. Her smile grew, and she said flirtatiously to the mirror. "That you Dr. Reid. You better talk sense to the boss lady here if you want to see your wife again."

"Officer Hernandez," JJ began.

The door opened softly, and Reid strolled unconcernedly into the interrogation room with his hands in his pockets and a small smile on his face. His eyes swept over Emily and JJ and landed on Officer Hernandez. His smile grew as he stood with his back against the two-way mirror.

"Reid," Emily questioned. "What're you doing?"

"I'm sorry to - _crash the party_ \- as it were, but I wondered if Marlena truly grasped her situation."

Officer Hernandez chuckled, then winked at him. "I understand my "situation," just fine. Oh," she smirked and leaned toward him. "Cat was right. You _are_ delicious. Too bad for you I like women."

Reid smiled as JJ and Emily narrowed their eyes in speculation. He crossed one ankle over the other and relaxed his stance. His hands stayed in his pockets, and his eyes remained neutral. "I don't think you _do_ appreciate your situation. Why don't I explain it to you?"

"I can't wait," said Hernandez.

"Marlena, did Cat tell you that I'm a genius?"

Marlena's eyebrows raised. "She said you're really smart, but I don't care about your brain because you're not the one in danger."

"True," Reid agreed and nodded his head. "I'm not in danger, but you are."

Marlena laughed. "You won't hurt me, Dr. Reid! You need me to find your little wifey. You better start talking immunity."

Spencer's eyes remained blank, and his body language continued to project absolute calm and unconcern. In fact, he smiled widely, as though in the middle of a huge joke. "My genius does matter, Marlena. My IQ is 187, and I have an eidetic memory."

"You're boring me, Dr. Reid. I might ask for my lawyer if you don't get to the point."

"The _point_ is that because I'm a genius and can read twenty-thousand words per minute, I have multiple degrees, including three PhDs."

"Dr. Reid –"

Reid finally removed his left hand from his pocket and held it up to stop her. "I've accumulated a massive collection of knowledge." He pointed the finger at his forehead. He pulled his right hand from the second pocket and began to make a quarter dance across his knuckles. "Some of that knowledge is relevant to my job, which means that I could make you disappear without a trace," He snapped his fingers, and the coin vanished. "Just like that coin."

Marlena began to laugh. "You won't hurt me because if you do, you'll end up in a cell, just like Cat."

Spencer straightened, and moved so fast, Emily flinched, and JJ jumped as if hit by an electric shock. He slapped his hands on the metal table so hard, it vibrated. "Tell me where they are, or so _help_ me god I will make you vanish just like that quarter."

"Reid," Emily shouted. "Stop it. Leave, right now!"

He rounded on her. "You better make her talk, or I will!"

He strode out of the room and slammed the door hard enough to make it rattle on its hinges. Emily turned to Officer Hernandez and smiled. "I'm sorry about that. He's understandably upset."

"I want my lawyer back, now! I'm going to tell her everything he said." Hernandez threatened, and for the first time, there was fear in her eyes.

"You can talk to your lawyer, and she'll explain to you what's going to happen now that were arresting you for conspiracy to kidnap the wife of a federal agent. You're looking at twenty years minimum." JJ put in.

"Come on," Emily said and stood. "Let's find her lawyer."

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Spencer paced the roundtable room like a caged tiger. He looked at the open door every time he made a circuit of the room, but no one approached. What took so long? He stopped pacing and began to stare out the window overlooking the bullpen. Several agents went about their jobs as if nothing had changed, and the thought made his hands curl into fists. How could the rest of the world go on when Chriscelia was in mortal danger? He blew out a huge breath and began to turn from the window. He'd go back to the interrogation and make Hernandez talk.

He'd taken three steps toward the door when JJ and Emily came through followed by Luke, Rossi, and Tara. His heart began to thump as he realized that Emily smiled like the proverbial cat that swallowed the canary. "It worked," he stated.

"Oh yes," she confirmed.

"Where did you learn to play the role of a bad cop so brilliantly?" Rossi asked as the rest smirked at him.

"Chriscelia taught me."

"I don't want know," Rossi implored as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

They all laughed, then sobered. "We have an address. It's here at Quantico, in base housing."

"Then let's go," Reid began and made for the door.

Emily put out a hand to stop him. "Look, just because she gave up the address, doesn't mean we go in there without confirming. We have to be careful."

Reid nodded. "You're right. I'm worried. What if she's hurting Chriscelia? Is the baby okay?"

"She won't do anything," Tara reminded him, "until you're there. She wants you to witness it."

"Tara's right," JJ said as she put a comforting arm around Reid. "We go in prepared for any contingency."

"What about her relationship with Cat?" Luke asked. "How can we use that to our advantage?"

"I have an idea about that," Tara said. "Emily, we need Garcia to open a sealed file?"

Emily's eyes brightened. "I'm right with you. She turned for the door and strode down the hallway in the direction of Garcia's lair.

"I'll coordinate with SWAT," Luke said.

"And I'll talk to General Stewart," Rossi said. "I think he'll provide manpower and ordinance if we need it. As a Marine, he'll be pissed that Lindsey's been here under our noses."

"Semper FI," Luke teased.

"You bet," Rossi retorted. "Hoorah."

They all separated and suddenly, Reid found he stood with JJ in a silence that cut like a razor-sharp knife through flesh. "Thanks for sticking with me, even when I proposed my attempt at the bad cop."

JJ grinned at him. "You had me convinced, Spence."

"Honesty always trumps the best acting."

"I know," she said, and they fell silent. After a few minutes of quiet, she said. "Come on, let's grab a cup of coffee, then make ourselves useful." Reid squeezed her hand and led the way out of the office.

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"Her story checks out," Garcia said, five minutes later. "I found the ID for Carole Atkinson, wife of Corporal Jeff Atkinson."

"So far, so good," JJ said as she and Reid entered the office.

"That's the end of the good news. Jeff Atkinson is in Afghanistan. His tour of duty ends in two weeks. I dug further into this and found a photograph of the real Carole Atkinson."

Garcia brought up the photo and JJ sighed as Reid stared at it. The real Carole Atkinson was blond with green eyes and stood three inches shorter than Lindsey. "How did she change places, and no one noticed the difference?"

"They have similar facial structure," Reid pointed out. "With the right disguise, it's possible."

"How did she know which woman to impersonate?"

"Marlena Hernandez said that Lindsey has someone inside Quantico."

"How do we find her if she has a mole," Garcia wondered.

"It doesn't matter because she wants us to find her," Reid said.

"He's right," JJ agreed. "Come on, let's tell the team and put together our plan."

"JJ," Garcia held up a hand. "I found something else."

"What is it?"

"I found an airline ticket for Carole Atkinson to Indiana. Her mother lives there. She's been there for two weeks and is scheduled to fly back in three days."

"Some homecoming," JJ said.

"It looks like the last trip before her baby is born. Her medical records show she is due in four months."

Garcia glanced at Reid, but he didn't appear to be listening. Instead, he turned and hurried from the room as if he responded to some inner call that only he could hear.

"I hurt him, didn't I. Chriscelia is due in four months and…" Garcia said, unhappily.

"Don't worry," JJ soothed. "I don't think he heard you."

"I hope not. I just wanted you to know so that you're certain Mrs. Atkinson's out of harm's way for the raid and everything."

"I know," JJ said. "He'll be all right."

"Will he?" Garcia wondered. "How much can one person take?"

JJ shook her head. "He'll be all right," she insisted and left Garcia's sanctuary.

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Reid finished adjusting his bulletproof vest. He was putting on a coat when Emily stopped him. "I wish I could order you to stay here."

"You know I can't. If I don't go, Lindsey will kill her."

"She might kill her the minute you walk in the door, Spencer."

He nodded his head. "I had considered that, but I think it's better to risk going in than risk staying back. I must save them, Emily. They are my life. There is nothing without them."

Emily glanced at the rest of the team, who were putting on vests and adjusting weapons. "I want you to know that this won't be like –"

Reid shook his head. "Don't say it, Emily. Lindsey isn't the same. We're not dealing with an unstable, suicidal personality this time. I know what to say, and I'll say it when the time comes."

"Spencer," Luke called. "You ready."

"Yes."

"Luke," Emily said. "You keep him in your sights no matter what."

"I will."

He nodded to Spencer and Reid inclined his head. They gathered together, and Rossi said. "We end this together."

"Together," they said in unison.

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Reid and JJ pulled up behind the last of the SUVs and parked down the street from the address provided by Marlena Hernandez. The street, for three blocks on either side, had been evacuated as quietly as possible, but Reid was sure that Lindsey knew he was coming.

"There's Luke," JJ said as a light flashed twice, then once on the first floor of a house across the street.

"I'm glad he's there."

"SWAT's here too, and their surveillance tells us that Lindsey and Chriscelia are in the living area at the front of the house. Luke will have a clear shot if needed."

"Then let's do it."

"I'll ask you again," Emily said as she approached. "Are you sure you're up for this, Spencer? We can go in."

"No, she wants me. Hernandez made that clear."

"Then go, and you know the signal."

Reid nodded and began to walk down the sidewalk toward the front door of the bungalow style house. The white paint appeared to shimmer in the moonlight, and he shivered. He could feel the eyes of his team on his back as he made his way up the stairs to the porch that held a wooden slat swing and a propane gas barbecue. The thought of never having the chance to enjoy a summer cookout with his family made him square his shoulders. He reached for the door and pulled it open.


	35. Chapter 35

**_Disclaimer: See my profile_**

Spencer opened the front door with his left hand and entered the brightly lit living area of the small home. His right hand held his service revolver as he swept from right to left. Lindsey stood in one corner of the room, her back to the paneled wall and her gun pointed at Chriscelia's head. His wife sat in a chair with her hands restrained behind her back.

"Spencer," Chriscelia cried and automatically began to try and rise to her feet.

"Don't move, bitch or I'll put a bullet in your head."

Chriscelia stopped struggling and stared at Spencer with tears streaming down her face. "Spencer," she whispered.

"It's okay, Celia. Just stay there for a minute. We'll be out of here soon. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep." Lindsey interrupted. "You're going to pay for taking away what I love." She stepped forward. "Drop your weapon, now."

"Why should I when you're going to kill her no matter what I do," he answered.

Chriscelia whimpered like a child, and he turned his eyes to her. He smiled and said in a soft tone. "Remember what I promised you the other day?"

Chriscelia nodded, and he could see her shoulders relax just a little. "Yes," she whispered.

"Shut up and drop the gun, Dr. Reid."

"I don't think so, Lindsey. Why don't you put down the gun and I'll do my best to make sure you get to see your father one last time before they put you away for good."

Lindsey's eyes narrowed. "Keep my father out of it."

"Sorry, did I hit a sore spot."

"Put down the gun," she repeated, and her cold, dark eyes bored into him like the tip of a laser beam.

"Or, you'll do what," he wanted to know as he took a step toward them. "You've already decided to kill Chriscelia. Whether or not I relinquish my weapon is irrelevant to your decision. I could try to kill you, but you'd probably pull the trigger before I could take you out and then, well, it wouldn't be pleasant. You don't fear my weapon, but you do want me unarmed for another reason. What is it?"

"I want you unarmed so you can watch your wife die, and I walk out the door."

Spencer smiled and shook his head. "You are _delusional_ if you think you can walk out that door. There are more than twenty police, FBI and military cops out there waiting for you."

"I'll have you as a hostage to get me off the base."

"You have it all figured out," Reid said and lifted his hands in surrender. "Why don't you do it then?"

"If you say so," she moved the gun toward the back of Chriscelia's head.

"Actually," Spencer said calmly. "I know something you don't, and if you kill her, you'll never know because I'll blow your head off as soon as you pull the trigger. Then, _she_ wins."

"Who wins," Lindsey asked, and anger entered her eyes for the first time. "You wife can't win. She's going to die."

He noticed that more tears ran down Chriscelia's face, but he also noticed that she worked at the zip tie that tied her hands behind her back. Her feet were untied he noticed, and he felt something like hope for the first time since entering the room.

"Oh, did you think I was talking about my wife," he taunted. "I meant Cat, your fiancé."

"Don't talk about her," Lindsey shouted.

"Why not, Lindsey. Cat betrayed you. She told you she loved you, and yet she seduced a guard and had his child, all to get to me."

"That's a lie," Lindsey said and grabbed Chriscelia by her hair as Spencer took another step toward her.

Chriscelia cried out and tried to pull away until Lindsey put the gun to her temple. "Admit you're lying or I'll pull the trigger."

"I'm not lying. I can prove it to you. Emily…"

The door opened, and Lindsey swung her gun in Emily's direction as she stepped through the door with a phone in her hand. "I have something to show you," she said and walked forward.

"Stay back," Lindsey warned as Spencer stepped closer to Chriscelia.

"Spencer's not lying to you Lindsey. Cat was pregnant, and she had a baby boy that was put up for adoption three months ago. You can see for yourself."

The photo showed a baby with skin the color of coffee light and large brown eyes. It was a poor quality photograph, but the woman in the picture with him was obviously Cat, dressed in a hospital gown. "The prison chaplain took the photo in case her son wants to see what his mother looked like at some future date."

"She had a baby," Lindsey whispered and seemed not to notice that Reid moved slowly forward, or that Chriscelia twisted her hands inside the confinement of the zip tie.

"Yes," Emily said. "Getting even with Reid was more important than being faithful to you."

Lindsey dropped the gun, and before Spencer could move, Chriscelia, in one smooth motion, yanked arm up and out, snapping the zip tie. She rose and punched Lindsey so hard in the mouth, she stumbled back and hit the wall. "That's for my baby," Criscelia shouted and followed up with another punch, this time to Lindsey's left eye. "That's for me."

"Chriscelia…"

"Back off, Spencer," she said and kicked out with one leg into Lindsey stomach which sent the other woman crashing to the floor. "That's for Spencer, _bitch_."

Emily grabbed Lindsey and cuffed her before Lindsey could recover. Spencer kicked the Desert Eagle out of the way and hurried to Chriscelia. She hugged him so hard he squirmed, then she kissed him, and he forgot they stood in a stranger's house with Emily reading Lindsey her rights.

"Are you okay?" Spencer said as he looked her over.

"I am now."

"I want you to go to the hospital," Reid insisted. "We need to make sure you and the baby are okay."

"Spencer!"

"Please," he begged her as he lay his face in the crook of her neck and held onto her like a dying man holding on to a life raft. "I need to know you're okay."

"Alright," she agreed and then began to cry. "I knew you'd come for me."

"Always," he said and kissed her until he couldn't breathe, then he led her out into the night and the waiting ambulance.

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Spencer sat next to the hospital bed in an examination cubicle, waiting for the ER doc to clear them to leave. He'd refused to leave her side even long enough for the doctor to look her over, or during the ultrasound, she'd ordered for Chriscelia. He held her hand, and they sat, not speaking until JJ entered after poking her head around the curtain that separated them from the rest of the ER. "Hey, may I come in?"

"Of course," Chriscelia said, and her eyes were red from crying.

"What's wrong? I mean other than the obvious. Is the baby okay?"

Spencer looked up, and she smiled when he said with a smirk. "You're babbling, JJ."

"Yes, because my best friend's wife was kidnapped and she's pregnant, and you haven't told me what's going on."

Chriscelia finally smiled. "I'm fine, and the baby is fine. I've been crying on his shoulder because I'm so relieved it's over and everyone is okay."

"Oh, well, in that case, you okay for a hug from your daughter's Godmother?"

"JJ," Spencer said and rolled his eyes. "You _know_ that Emily, Garcia, and Tara all want the job."

JJ hugged Chriscelia very carefully, then went to Spencer and pulled him into her arms. "I'm so glad she's okay," she said and smoothed back his hair.

"Me too."

"Now," she began, and Chriscelia grinned at Spencer, who shook his head at JJ's tone. "I think I should be the Godmother because I'm the best for the job."

"Really," said an annoyed voice. Emily appeared around the dividing curtain with a scowl on her face, but twinkling eyes. "Why do you think you're the best for the job?"

"Because Garcia's godmother to my boys, and well, I've known Spencer longer than anyone."

"A pretty lame excuse," Emily said, and they all laughed.

"I think _we_ should make the decision," Reid opined, and Chriscelia nodded her head.

" _They_ want to decide," Emily said to JJ.

"Well, they are the parents, after all," JJ admitted.

"You guys should take your act on the road," Chriscelia grumbled, and Reid nodded his head. "Yeah."

"Seriously though," Emily said. "Where did you learn to punch like that?"

"JJ and Morgan taught me self-defense. If Lindsey hadn't surprised me with that gun, I would've kicked her ass."

"Nice, but how did you get out of the zip tie," Tara said, coming around the curtain with a bouquet of flowers from the gift shop.

"He taught me," Chriscelia gestured to Reid. "He showed me how to get out of zip ties, ropes, and duck tape."

"I'm just glad it was a zip tie instead of handcuffs," Spencer said with relief.

"Me too. It was fun knocking Lindsey on her ass."

"I'm so proud of you," Spencer exclaimed, "but you scared me to death."

"Hey, you guys having a party in here," Rossi wanted to know as he and Luke entered the cubicle.

"I hope not because that's against hospital rules," said another voice which belonged to Dr. Jacobsen. "My patient needs rest and quiet."

"I want to go home," Chriscelia insisted. "I'm _fine_."

"I agree," said the doctor. "You and the baby check out fine, physically, but I want you to go straight to bed, Mrs. Reid and stay there for at least twenty-four hours, and I want you to follow-up with your OB-GYN in the next forty-eight hours."

"I will," Chriscelia promised. "Can I go home now?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, Dr. Jacobsen," Spencer said.

The doctor smiled and held out her hand. "It was nice to meet your Dr. Reid. I'm glad your wife and child are okay after such an experience."

"Me, too."

He helped Chriscelia stand after the doctor left. "Come on," he said to her and the team. "Let's go home."

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Spencer shut the door to their room and hurried to the bed where Chriscelia sat with her back against two pillows. He frowned when she yawned. "You need to get some sleep."

"I don't think I can," she choked and then began to cry.

Spencer went to the bed, crawled inside, and slid over to take her into his arms. He buried his head in her hair. "I was so afraid I'd never see you again. I love you so much it hurts."

"I love you too," she said into his hair. "Please don't leave, I need you to hold me."

"I'll never let you go."

He did hold onto her until she fell into a fitful sleep. He sat with her cradled in his arms and watched her until he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. "I love you," he murmured just before sleep pulled him under its spell and kept him there until he awoke in the gray light of the dawning of the brand new day.

He slipped from Chriscelia's arms and groaned at the stiffness in his neck. He rotated his neck, stretched, and stood. "Don't go," he looked down to see Chriscelia with tears in her eyes. She held out her arms to him.

"Don't cry, Celia. I just need a bathroom break, and then I'll be back. I promise."

She nodded and pulled the comforter around her shoulders. When he returned, she hugged him as soon as he climbed back into the bed. "I'm so scared," she whispered. "Lindsey's gone, but I'm still frightened. Why?"

"It's going to take time to feel normal again, Celia," he soothed. "I'm afraid, too."

"You are?"

"Of course," he said and tightened his hold on her. "I was terrified I'd never hold you in my arms or talk to the baby."

He put his hand on her abdomen, and said, "Daddy loves you so much, baby girl. I'm happy you're safe with mommy in my arms where you belong."

"Right where we belong," Chriscelia said, and her eyelids began to droop again.

"Go back to sleep," he soothed. "When you wake, the word will look different, I promise."


	36. Chapter 36

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

Spencer opened his eyes to morning light pushing around the thermal curtains at the bedroom window. He stretched, yawned, and turned to see the digital clock read 9:52 a.m. He blinked and wondered how he'd managed to sleep so soundly after such a horrible night.

"No!"

Spencer jolted and rolled over to see his wife begin to thrash. "Stop, no, leave me…" Chriscelia punched out with her hands and twisted in her sheets. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her face screwed up in grief and pain. "Don't, no, my baby…"

"Chriscelia!

"No!" She screamed, and it was like the shriek of a damned soul. Spencer gathered her into his arms. "Don't," he soothed. "I'm here Celia. It's all right. Come back to me." He stroked her sweat-dampened hair back from her forehead and kissed her cheek. "It's all right," he whispered again. "Wake up, baby. Please."

Chriscelia's eyes opened wide, and she didn't seem to see him. "Go away," she cried miserably, and his heart broke. "It's me, Celia. It's Spencer. You're safe."

Spencer could see that she didn't see him, that her sight turned into the nightmare world she still inhabited. "My baby! Spencer, where are you? Don't let her hurt my baby!"

"Chriscelia, wake up, sweetheart."

"Spencer?" Her eyes finally cleared, and she gasped for breath as she clutched him tight and began to sob. "I was so scared; I couldn't find you or the baby. You disappeared, and I was alone."

"I'm here, Celia. The baby is right where she should be, safe inside you." He laid his hand on her abdomen. "She's growing strong and happy."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Celia?"

"I don't want to talk about it, okay. I just want to forget."

"Baby, I think you –"

"Don't; I said I don't want to talk. I need a shower."

Chriscelia pushed away from him and climbed out of bed. Spencer watched her walk slowly to the bathroom and disappear inside the door. He waited for fifteen minutes, but she didn't reappear, and he could hear the shower going. He hung his head, then decided that he'd make her favorite breakfast.

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Spencer closed the door on the oven and removed his oven mitts. He stood and stretched again as his eyes found the coffee maker, with a new pot of deliciously inviting coffee. He breathed in the heavenly scent and went to one of the oak cabinets and rummaged for his favorite mug. It wasn't there.

"Chriscelia," he called, "Do you know where my coffee mug is? Babe?" He called again when she didn't answer.

Hm… She always answered when he called to her. Maybe she'd fallen asleep again, and that thought made him frown. The last thing she needed was more bad dreams, but she also needed rest. He stood in the doorway from the kitchen that led to the great room and thought for a minute. He decided to find her and determine if she wanted to eat.

Chriscelia stood next to the baby's new crib when Spencer reached the nursery. Her back was to him, and he could hear that she cried. Her head was down, and her shoulders hunched as if for a blow. His heart broke again to see her in such agony.

"Celia," he said quietly, but she didn't acknowledge him.

"Honey," he went to her and tried to take her into his arms, but she yanked away and turned furious, and bloodshot eyes on him. "Don't touch me!"

Spencer held out both hands to Chriscelia, but she stepped backward and nearly ran into the crib. "It's your fault," she shouted and began to cry again. "That crazy woman did all of this to me because of you. I hate you!"

Spencer flinched and took a step toward her, his heart thumping so hard he couldn't speak as pain slammed through his gut. "Celia."

"Don't," she shook her head, and her eyes blazed with tears rolling down her face. "You don't get to call me that, not anymore. It's your fault. What if something happened to the baby? What if she hurt…"

Spencer jumped forward when Chriscelia's face drained of color, and her legs began to buckle. "I – Spencer, I don't feel so well," she swayed, and he caught her just before she hit the ground. "Honey," he cried. "Oh, god. Please no!"

He carried her to their bedroom and lay her as gently as possible on the bed. Luckily, his phone lay on one of their night tables. He snatched it up and dialed 911.

"You have to help me. My wife fainted. She's pregnant. Please help me," he nearly screamed the words.

"We will," said the calm voice on the other end of the phone. "What's your name, sir."

He gave his name and their address as calmly as he could, then he got up to pace around the room for what seemed like hours until he heard sirens in the distance. "It's okay," he said to Chriscelia," and his heart leaped with joy as her eyelids fluttered open. "It's okay. Stay with me."

Chriscelia looked up at him with eyes still filled with tears; then she reached out a hand to him. Spencer took it, bent over, and kissed her. "Help is here," he said. "I'll be right back."

The paramedics took over and worked in smooth coordination. The first medic wrapped her arm with a blood pressure cuff and took the readings while the second medic listened with a stethoscope, first for Chriscelia's heartbeat, then for the baby's heartbeat. They set up an IV and oxygen for Chriscelia. The blood pressure reading made the first paramedic frown. "Sir, your wife's blood pressure is dangerously high. We need to transport her to the hospital. She needs to be monitored, and the cause of her fainting spell determined. How long was she unconscious?"

"From the time I called 911 to about a minute before you arrived," Spencer said.

"Let's get her into the ambulance," said the first medic.

"What about the baby?" Spencer said anxiously.

"The heartbeat is strong and regular, but I'm sure the OB on call will order an ultrasound."

"Don't worry," said the second medic as they transferred Chriscelia to the gurney, "The on-call doc is the best around."

Spencer's eyebrows went up. "Really," he said, lamely.

"Yeah," said the first medic. "John should know because she's his wife."

"Spencer," said a weak voice.

Spencer looked down at her as they pushed the gurney through the nursery and out into the hallway. "I'm here, sweetheart."

"Sorry," she said weakly. "Love you."

"It's all right," he choked out, and tears filled his eyes. "You just rest."

"Hey," the medic said to her. "Stay with us, Chriscelia."

"Head hurts," Chriscelia complained.

"I know, once the ER doc's had the chance to examine you, I'm sure you'll get some pain meds."

They were about to load her in when Spencer said. "What hospital?"

"County General, just up the road about a mile. You're lucky to be so close."

"I'm right behind you, Celia," he said and leaned over to kiss her.

Spencer watched them close the doors, and the ambulance pull away with the light flashing in competition with the bright winter sunlight. He turned, ran back into the house to shut off the oven and grab his coat.

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Spencer watched his wife as she slept after her ultrasound. They'd let him stay in the room while the tech and the on-call OB made their examination of the baby. They'd agreed that the baby was well, no cause for alarm existed. He'd stopped holding his breath when he once again heard the baby's heartbeat. Chriscelia had cried but hadn't spoken during the examination. Her hand shook as it held Spencer's with a vice-like grip.

Now, he waited for the ER doctor to come back with test results. Two hours had passed since the ultrasound, and Spencer was on the point of going to search for the doctor when a face peeked around the curtain.

"Spence," JJ said and hurried to him.

Spencer stood and embraced JJ tightly enough to cause her pain, but she didn't complain. "I'm so glad you're here," he said and began to sob on her shoulder.

JJ held him until he pulled away and wiped at his eyes. "Here," she reached into her bag and handed him a travel sized pack of tissues.

"What happened? Is Chriscelia okay? Is the baby all right?

Spencer sat down and motioned for JJ to sit in the second, hard plastic and exceedingly uncomfortable chairs. "I'm not sure what happened. We're still waiting for the doctor and test results. We had an ultrasound, and they said the baby is okay, but… I still don't know if Chriscelia is all right. God, JJ. I can't lose either of them. Why is this happening? I get them back, and now this."

"I don't know," JJ said, and her deep blue eyes held sympathy and compassion for him in their depths. "I do know that she's going to be fine, Spencer. I believe it."

"How do you know?"

"Because I do," she said. "I can't explain it. I just know."

"I'm not sure I can believe in a feeling."

"That's okay, Spence. I'll believe it for both of us."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, then JJ said, "Emily said to tell you she wants you to take the next week off and depending on what the doctors say about Chriscelia, she'll adjust your leave time."

Spencer gave her a sad smile and nod, but there was something in his eyes that she didn't like, and a shiver ran through her. "Tell her I said thanks."

"I will. Garcia said to give you and your girls her love. She wanted to come with me, but Emily made the others stay away. She didn't want you overwhelmed, and I agree. They can visit you both later."

"I'm glad Emily told the others to stay away. It's not that I don't love you guys and want to see you, it's just – I can't deal with everyone right now."

"I understand better than you think," JJ said softly and smiled at him.

At that moment a tall man with coppery red hair, green eyes, and horn-rimmed glassed stepped into the room. "Hi, Dr. Reid. I have test results for you."

"Dr. Talbot, this is my colleague JJ. You can speak in front of her.

"The good news is that Mrs. Reid doesn't have toxemia."

Reid visibly relaxed and JJ thought he might have fallen if he hadn't been sitting already. She noticed that Chriscelia moved and her eyes fluttered open. "Spencer."

"Well, I'm glad to see you awake, Mrs. Reid," said the doctor. "I was just telling your husband that you don't have toxemia. I believe that your blood-pressure spike was due to extreme stress. After what Dr. Reid relayed to me about the last twenty-four hours, I'm not surprised."

"Oh, Spencer, I'm so glad," Chriscelia said, and she began to try to get out of bed.

"Not quite yet, young lady," said the doctor. "I want you to stay here until we finish your fluids," he tapped the bag hanging next to her bed. "Then you go home, and you go right to bed for at least another twenty-four hours."

"I'm feeling much better," Chriscelia pointed out.

"Yes, but we don't want a repeat, and next time it may not be just a reaction to unusual stress."

Chriscelia instantly sat back on her pillows. "Yes, sir."

"Dr. Reid, are you able to stay at home with her for the next couple of days?"

"Yes. I have the next week off."

"Spencer," Chriscelia tried to interrupt, but they ignored her.

"Good," said Dr. Talbot. "Make sure she stays in bed for at least twenty-four hours, and I want her to avoid as much stress as possible until your baby is born."

"Yes, doctor. Thank you."

"Make sure to follow up with your doctor in the next couple of days."

"I will," Chriscelia promised him.

"Your nurse will be in very soon. I suggest you take the time to rest and then go straight home."

The doctor left them there staring at each other. Spencer suddenly embraced her, and she kissed him until he had to pull back and say. "Hey, you're supposed to be resting."

"I know, but I wanted to apologize. I said some terrible things to you and –"

Spencer cut her off. "We'll talk about it later, Celia."

Chriscelia nodded, then seemed to notice JJ for the first time. "Hello, JJ. I'm very glad you're here."

"Me too," JJ said and hugged her carefully. "I'm so happy you and the baby are all right."

"I'm sorry I scared everyone."

"It's not your fault," JJ assured her. "It's been hell for both of you. Don't apologize."

"JJ's right," Spencer said and clutched her hand. "We're going to deal with this together, but right now, just rest and don't worry, okay."

"I'll try," Chriscelia said and then she grimaced. "I need a bathroom break."

"Let me grab a nurse," JJ said and jumped out of her chair.

"I don't need help," Chriscelia complained.

"You're going to have it whether or not you think you need it because I'm worried about you." Spencer insisted as JJ left the cubicle.

Chriscelia let her shoulders slump. "You're right. I promise I'll take it easy."

"Good," he leaned over and kissed her again. "I love you, Mrs. Reid.


	37. Chapter 37

_**Disclaimer: see my profile.**_

When the nurse returned to assist Chriscelia, JJ entered with her and took a seat. As soon as the bathroom door closed Spencer said, "I need to talk to you, JJ."

"Of course, Spence. I can see something's bothering you."

"Not now," He insisted quietly. "Perhaps we can speak tomorrow after Chriscelia leaves to see her doctor. She has an appointment with her therapist that she scheduled before the – well, anyway, I'm going to insist that she go to both appointments. She'll be gone for at least two hours."

"I think that's a great idea. Don't be upset, but I think Chriscelia needs to talk to someone outside of our crazy and mixed up family."

Spencer smiled as she grinned at him and put an arm around his waist. They hugged briefly and were separating when Chriscelia returned. "Aha," she exclaimed. "Caught you alone and hugging, what's going on?"

Spencer saw that she smiled, but the perceived happiness didn't reach her eyes. Instead, the fear he saw, broke his heart and made him go to her and help her sit on the edge of the bed, while the nurse arranged her IV pole into position. Chriscelia pulled the sheet and hospital blanket over her legs as Spencer arranged her pillows.

"Sorry," JJ continued the conversation. "I needed the hug. You scared me," she said with a bit of false irritation.

"Hm," Chriscelia responded. "Are you sure that's all. I sense something else."

"You're right," Spencer said. "JJ's exaggerating. I needed the hug, but I need one more from you, oh my beautiful wife."

Spencer hugged her carefully and saw that the smile on her face now reached her eyes. She kissed him gently as if they'd woken in their bed at home on an average day, with all the promise of the golden sunlight shining through the windows.

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome."

"Guys," JJ said and smirked at them. "I better go."

"You don't have to leave," Chriscelia said as she sat back against her pillows.

"I should go home and see my boys," JJ said. "I'll call you later," she directed at Spencer. "I'll call you in a couple of days," she said to Chriscelia after leaning down for a hug. "You take care of yourself and my little goddaughter."

"Not that again," Chriscelia complained, but she smiled at her friend.

"Sorry, but I have to plant the suggestion every time I see you, or you might forget."

Spencer rolled his eyes. "I doubt it."

"Hush," JJ said, and Chriscelia laughed. "I'm out of here," JJ said, and she was gone.

"I'm so glad we're friends," Chriscelia said. "I like her."

"JJ will always be special to me because of Henry," Spencer said as he sat with his back to the door and Chriscelia's hand gripped tight in his fingers. "She made me his godfather when I was sure I never wanted kids, and then he changed my mind."

"I'm glad," Chriscelia said. "I think our little girl is glad too."

Spencer smiled then leaned forward and kissed his wife. His forehead stayed pressed to hers after the kiss ended and he whispered. "Thank God you're all right. I couldn't live if something happened to you."

Spencer felt her arms come around him, and his head dropped to her shoulder. "I love you," Chriscelia whispered. "I'm sorry for the terrible things I said today."

Spencer pulled away and shook his head. "You don't need to apologize."

"Yes, I do, but we'll talk later," she yawned. "Right now, I want to go home."

Spencer looked at her IV bag and noticed that it had nearly depleted. "I'm going to see if I can find a nurse and start the process to get you out of here and back home where you belong."

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JJ knocked on the Reids' front door the next day just as Spencer finished picking up books that had scattered around the Great Room. He hurried to the front door, looked at the security feed and smiled when JJ stuck her tongue out at him.

"Nice," he greeted. "Did aliens replace you with a six-year-old?"

"No," she insisted and kissed his cheek.

"What's this," Reid wondered at the wonderful smelling bag she carried.

"It's Will's famous beef and barley stew, along with some freshly made bread from Gail's Bakery and a green salad made by Emily."

"Goodness," Reid said as he took the insulated bag and led the way to the kitchen. "Rossi brought us his signature Carbonara for dinner last night, and Tara brought a casserole that we haven't touched yet. Our freezer is overflowing."

"Good," JJ quipped. "You won't starve."

"I resent that remark. Just because you all think I can't cook, doesn't mean we'll starve."

JJ stopped in the act of unzipping the bag. "Spence, I know you're great with breakfast food, but there's a reason we were relieved when you met Chriscelia. The woman can cook!"

"Yes, and I've picked up a few things in the last year. Did you know I can make soup?"

JJ pulled on a pair of oven mitts and carefully removed the three-quart slow cooker. She plugged it in and removed the salad before she responded. "Well, good for you, Spence."

"You don't sound convinced."

JJ put away the salad with another small container that Spencer couldn't identify and set the freshly baked bread on the counter. "I'm not," JJ admitted. "Chriscelia told Garcia about your attempt to make homemade chicken soup."

Spencer shook his head. "That was a month ago. I'm much better now."

"I'm glad to hear it, but do you want to talk about your exploits in the kitchen, or what's truly bothering you?"

Spencer sighed and leaned against the granite counter top. "I'm trying to decide what to do."

"Will you be angry if I say I know you're thinking about leaving the BAU."

Spencer laughed a bitter laugh. "I'm not going to ask you how you know."

JJ touched his arm. "I know because I recognize the look in your eyes from my mirror, Spence. I understand how you feel, better than you will _ever_ know."

"Thank you for not saying you know how I feel because no one knows except for me. I feel like I can't continue to put my family in danger, JJ."

"It sounds like you've made up your mind," JJ reasoned. "I'm sad you want to leave, but I know you have to do what you have to do."

"I asked you here because I want your advice. Why have you chosen to stay after everything?"

JJ gave him a tiny smile. "Will and I have an agreement. If my job's too much, either of us can call it, say its over. I'd be a stay at home mom, and Will would open a breakfast place."

Spencer smiled, and his chuckle became a sob. He wiped at his eyes and pulled gently away from JJ when she tried to hug him. "Maybe that's a good idea."

"You're not Will and me," JJ reminded him.

"No, but, it's strange you have such an arrangement because I promised myself that if anything happened after we lost Steven, that I'd quit. I still feel that way."

JJ squeezed his hand. "Why are you talking to me instead of your wife? She deserves to know how you feel."

Spencer nodded and drew in a deep breath. "Before she collapsed the other day, she was so angry with me; I thought she'd leave. She said terrible things, and she was right. If not for me, and my job, she wouldn't have been on Cat's radar. I put her and my baby in mortal jeopardy, JJ. How can I forgive myself for such a thing?"

"You didn't put them in danger, Spence."

"I did –"

"No, you _didn't_ ," she argued. "You are not responsible for Cat and her inability to let go of her irrational anger toward you. You're _not_ responsible for Lindsay and her choice to become a killer. She could have made different choices, Spence. They both could've made different choices, but they didn't, and Chriscelia was caught in the middle."

"Don't you think I know that," Spencer argued. "The truth is that my job _is_ dangerous. It's okay for me to decide to go on, but not for me to drag Chriscelia in with me."

"You're right," JJ admitted. "I just don't want to see you leave and then regret it."

"Neither do I."

"Then I think you should talk to your wife. Tell her what you're thinking and feeling even if it hurts. She will understand."

"I don't want her to feel guilty, that she pushed me into this decision because she's afraid and I want to protect her."

"Again," JJ repeated. "You need to tell her everything you just said to me. She's more than your wife, Spence. She's your partner and best friend. She's the mother of your child. She loves you more than all the team put together. _Trust_ her."

Spencer finally smiled. "I will. Thanks for listening."

JJ hugged him tightly. "I want you to be happy, Spence. If that means you have to leave, then I will understand."

"I know. I'd feel the same way about you."

They were quiet until JJ said. "Now, what else can I do around here to help you two."

"Nothing," Spencer assured her. "I just finished tidying the Great Room, and all the beds are made," he said with a laugh.

"You know," JJ said with a smirk. "My grandmother used to say that as long as the dishes were off the floor and the beds were made, the rest didn't matter."

Spencer frowned. "Seriously."

"Yep, but I think she didn't take her advice because she had the cleanest house I've ever seen."

At that moment, Spencer heard Chriscelia's voice from the direction of the front door. "Babe, I'm back."

"In the kitchen," Spencer called, and his face lit up like a star in the evening sky.

JJ stepped forward to hug her as soon as she entered the kitchen. "Hey, Chriscelia. You okay."

"Hi, JJ. Yeah, just got back from two doctors' appointments."

"How are you and the baby," Spencer said anxiously after embracing her and kissing her.

"We're fine. We have a clean bill of health. Dr. Osorio wants to go back to twice a weekly for the next few weeks because of the kidnapping, but it was a good session."

They were quiet for a minute, then Chriscelia said. "I hope you won't take this the wrong way JJ, but what are you doing here?"

"Brought you and Spence some of Will's beef and barley soup, bread, and salad."

"Did you tell her that everyone is burying us in food," Chriscelia said from the comfort of Spencer's arms.

"Yes, and she said they're all worried about us and want us to take it easy."

"Well, it smells delicious. Tell Will we say thanks."

"I will. Now, it's time for me to leave you two alone. _Get_ some rest," JJ directed to Chriscelia.

"I promise."

The two friends hugged, then JJ turned to embrace Spencer. "Take care of yourself, Spence. Call me if you need anything."

Spencer nodded. "I'll walk you to the door."

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"Dinner was delicious," Chriscelia said as she watched Spencer load the dishwasher. He refused to let her do it, but she had successfully argued to clear the table and put away the leftovers.

"Agreed," Spencer said as he programmed the appliance and turned to her. "You should be sitting down, babe. I want to talk to you."

"I will."

Spencer followed her to the Great Room. She sat and studied him as he joined her after kicking off his shoes and socks.

"What is it?" She probed.

"You told me that your appointment with Dr. Osorio went well. I know you're still angry with me."

"Spencer, I am, but I –"

Spencer held up at hand. "What would you say if I told you I'm seriously considering leaving the BAU?"


	38. Chapter 38

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

Chriscelia stared at Spencer, her hazel eyes wide and filled with disbelief. "I _am_ serious," Spencer said, firmly. "What do you think?"

Chriscelia moved away from him. "I – Spencer, what are you saying? Why?"

"I'm thinking of leaving the BAU, Celia. It's time."

Chriscelia swallowed and got to her feet. Spencer watched her go to the fireplace and stand in front of the flames. The golden-red light danced over her figure, appearing to gather her into its embrace. He shivered and looked away from the sight.

"You're going because of me," Chriscelia choked in a voice so quiet, he barely heard the words.

"No," Spencer lied, then he dropped his eyes to the carpeted floor. "I mean, yes, in part but –"

Chriscelia turned, and her eyes blazed with anger as the flickering flames continued their reflected dance on her skin. "Spencer, you can't leave the BAU because of me."

Spencer stood and crossed the room to her. She pulled back when he put his hands on her shoulders. He sighed, and his shoulders slumped. "Let me finish," he said. "I said, leaving was partly for you, but it's mostly for me. I decided after we found Scratch that if anything else happened to endanger me, or my family, I'd leave. I'm simply keeping the promise."

Chriscelia let her crossed arms fall to her sides. "I wish I could tell you I'm unhappy with your decision, Spencer because I don't want you to resent me if you decide to leave."

Spencer pulled her into his arms. "I won't resent you, Celia. Leaving the BAU is what I want." He laid one hand on her burgeoning belly and said. "I love you and our daughter so much, I can't fathom it. When I walked into that house and saw you tied up with a gun to your head, I couldn't justify in my mind and heart staying in a job that puts my family in jeopardy."

Chriscelia tugged out of his arms. "I know how much you love helping people. Your job, despite all its dangers, lets you use the wonderful talent you have to help others."

"Yes, but there are other ways for me to help people. Please tell me you understand and that you'll stand by me."

"I'll always stand with you, Spencer. You're my husband and my best friend. I'll support whatever you want to do with the rest of your life."

Spencer took her hand and led her back to the sofa. They sat, and he wrapped an arm around her as she tucked her feet up on the seat and lay her head on his shoulder. "I was so afraid when I knew Lindsey had you as her prisoner. I thought I'd lost my most precious gift."

Chriscelia looked up to see Spencer's eyes full of unshed tears. She kissed the tip of his nose and made him laugh. "Dr. Osorio told me that I have to talk to you, to be honest about what I feel."

"She's right," Spencer agreed. "Tell me."

"I was terrified when I realized that this crazy woman wanted to kill me, and then I was angry when I knew she kidnapped me to get to you because of another looney tune in prison. I was furious with you, Spencer. I kept thinking, what if I die, or what if something happens to our baby girl."

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. "I swear I'm going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you and the baby."

"You don't have to spend your _**entire**_ life groveling, a month will do," she said with a smirk.

"There she is," Spencer exclaimed. "I thought my smart-ass wife was gone forever."

Chriscelia rolled her eyes. "Unfortunately for you, I'm back."

"I'm glad, but this isn't an overnight fix, babe. I'm sure Dr. Osorio told you one day at a time. Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome isn't easily overcome."

"She did say it, but I need my sarcasm, Spencer. It's who I am, and you love me for all my smart remarks."

Spencer pretended to disagree, and Chriscelia lightly smacked his shoulder. "Seriously, I think we should discuss your next move, because I don't want you to quit in the heat of the moment, so to speak."

"I'm not," Spencer said. "I meant it when I told you I've been thinking about it since Stephen died."

"All right, then what's your plan?"

Spencer tightened his arms around her and breathed in the clean scent of her hair, and the vanilla of her perfume. "Honestly, I don't know if I can completely leave the FBI behind. I thought I might talk to Emily about permanently leaving the field, and consulting with the team. I heard, recently, that the Criminal Psychology instructor at the academy is retiring at the beginning of March. Rossi teaches Interrogation, and I've taught for him, twice. I liked it."

Chriscelia turned to face him straight on. "Are you sure you want to teach or consult full time? I remember you told me once that it's more difficult to consult from a desk because you depend on photographs or paperwork instead of immersing in the scene."

"It is true that without the sense of smell, hearing and seeing the crime scene in real time makes the process more difficult, but I can handle it if it means that I'm safe and my family is secure."

Chriscelia studied him for a moment, then reached out to gently push his bangs out of his eyes. She kissed him, softly, like gentle rain on the petals of a rose. Spencer closed his eyes and let contentment begin to displace the fear and the anger in his heart.

"Then," Chriscelia said as her hands cupped his face. "Do it, babe. Take this step, and I'll walk this new path with you."

"Truly."

"Yes, as long as you promise me you'll tell me if it doesn't work for you."

"I promise," Spencer said. "I have to work out the details with the FBI. I'm certain they'll be happy to have me take over the teaching position, but I don't know about keeping my position on the team as a consultant."

"I think the FBI's smart enough to keep you on as a consultant. They'd be stupid to lose your talents."

"I hope you're right."

"I am right," she said confidently.

Spencer laughed and took both her hands. He held them tight and said. "I love you, Chriscelia Reid."

"You better," she warned and made him grin.

"Forever and always," he assured her.

"I'm glad you said that because I feel the same about you, Spencer. I can't imagine my life without you."

"Even with all my baggage," Spencer inquired after she kissed him.

"Yes," she said. "You know it's not all roses and poetry, babe. I don't want it to be, but I could use less intense drama."

Spencer sighed, then shook his head and smiled at her, that wonderful smile full of happiness and wonder that she loved to see. "Me too," he agreed. "When I was new at the BAU, I thought it was normal, but now I know it's not. There's more to my life than chasing down killers and psychopaths. You taught me that."

"My job is done," she said, tartly.

"Oh, very funny," he complained until she kissed him again.

"No," he said and gently disengaged from her when the kiss began to warm like melted chocolate in the late afternoon sun. "You and the baby need rest."

Chriscelia studied him for a moment then shrugged. "All right, but there is something I need to give you."

"Chriscelia, you don't need -"

She clapped a hand over his mouth. "Don't say it, Spencer. I'll be right back."

Spencer watched her hurry toward their bedroom. He waited with growing impatience for her to return, and suddenly an irrational urge to run and see if she were still there, rose in his belly. "Stop it," he whispered. "She's not going to disappear again. Cat and Lindsey are locked away for good."

He attempted for force his body to relax by breathing in and out, but then Chriscelia reappeared, and he covered his fright with a forced smile. "I found it," she said, as she returned to his side with an envelope in her hands. "It's a late Valentine message for daddy," she said and gave him the envelope.

"Chriscelia?"

"I was going to give this to you on the day, but… well, it didn't work out obviously, and I forgot until now."

Spencer opened the envelope with trembling fingers and withdrew folded pink stationery. He unfolded it and began to read in Chriscelia's handwriting.

 _Dear Papa,_

 _I asked mommy to write this for me because I can't hold a pencil yet. Mommy told me all about Valentine's Day. She said it's about something called love. I'm not sure what that means, but I think it's a good thing because I could tell it makes mommy happy when she talks about you, Papa. She talks about you to me all the time, and I want to meet you, so I can understand why this love thing is so important._

 _I hope we all stay together for always because I feel safe when I hear your voice talking to me, papa. Please never stop talking to me because I like it very much. Mommy said you could be my Valentine. I'm not sure what that means, but it must be a good thing because Mommy always tells me good things. So, will you be my Valentine, Papa?_

Spencer felt tears slid down his face as he read the letter. The words came from Chriscelia, but he could pretend they came from his tiny baby girl.

"Oh, Chriscelia," he cried and pulled her into his arms. "How did you know exactly the right gift for me?"

"Because I love," Chriscelia said simply, and let tears fall unheeded at the joy on his beautiful face.

"I love you, and our child so much it hurts. I'm sorry I subjected you to such terror and pain."

"You didn't," Chriscelia denied. "I know I blamed you, but I was wrong. It's Cat and Lindsey at fault, not you."

Spencer nodded. "You're right, and it time to move on." He laid his hand on her belly. "Of course, I'll be your Valentine, little girl, always. I love you and mommy more than anyone in the world."

He looked up to see Chriscelia weeping in the flickering light of the fire. "I love you," she gasped and leaned in to kiss him. "You'll never know how much."

"I think I have some idea," he argued, and she laughed through her tears.

"You want to change into PJ's and have a movie night?"

"Yes," Spencer said resolutely. "We'll watch anything you want."

"Even a chick-flick," Chriscelia teased.

Spencer rolled his eyes and sighed. "Even a chick-flick."

Chriscelia kissed him and stood up. "Thanks, babe. You're the best."

Spencer stretched his arms over his head. "Chick-flicks put me to sleep, why should I complain."

"Oh, you," Chriscelia exclaimed and threw one of the decorative pillows at his head. "I will get you for that, one day."

"You say that regularly, but you never follow through. I'm beginning to think your threats are empty."

"Did you hear that baby," Chriscelia said to her tummy. "Papa thinks my threats are empty." She returned her gaze to him. "Wait until we gang up on you."

"Oh no, now I am scared."

"You better be."

Spencer got to his feet and grabbed her hand. "Come on, let's get changed and watch a movie. We can argue later."

"As usual, you're right. It's a bit annoying," Chriscelia added as pride sprang into Spencer's eyes.

"Will I ever have the last word?" Spencer wondered as they walked toward the nursery.

"Someday I'll let you have it, just to show I can play fair."

Spencer laughed. "Oh, what would I do without you."

"You'll never have to know," she assured him as they entered their room to begin a relaxing night far from drama and fear.


	39. Chapter 39

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

A week had passed when Spencer stepped off the elevator at the BAU, eager to speak to Emily about finalizing his move to teaching and part-time consulting with the team. His steps were light, and his chest felt as though the weight of years had lifted off and left him buoyant as a balloon in the spring breeze.

"Hey," JJ greeted him as soon as he walked into the bullpen. "There you are."

"Hi, JJ," he responded with a short hug. "I'm so glad to see you."

"Me too. How is Chriscelia?"

"She's doing much better, except for the nightmares. Dr. Osorio told her they'd fade, but I think she's having a difficult time believing it."

"As we know from experience," JJ said.

The two of them stopped at Reid's desk to leave his coat and messenger bag. "Yes, we do know."

He turned from his desk and for the first time noticed the apprehension in JJ's eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I can't hide from you," JJ complained, but she smiled.

"No, you can't," Spencer agreed and smirked at his friend.

JJ shook her head and leaned against his desk. "I'm glad to see you back, but it reminds me that you might be gone in a couple of weeks."

"I'm not leaving, JJ. I'll be here when you need me. I'm still Henry's godfather."

JJ sighed and straightened. "I know, but it won't be the same. I'm not looking forward to long flights home on the jet without you to beat me at poker."

Spencer's eyebrows went up. "You'll miss losing to me. That's – well, it's a bit masochistic, don't you think."

JJ lunged playfully at him, but he dodged out of her way. "I think I'm going up to see Emily."

"Coward," JJ teased and made him laugh. "Go do what you have to do."

Reid was halfway up the stairs when JJ called to him. "Spence?"

"Yes," he said and turned back to her.

"You know I support whatever you do, right?"

"Yes, I know."

JJ watched him hurry to Emily's office and knock at the door. A new era was about to begin in the BAU, and she wished she could make time stand still, but time didn't bow to the wishes of a mere mortal.

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"Come in," Emily called when a light knock sounded at her door.

"Hey," Spencer said as he entered and sat. "You have a minute to talk."

Emily nodded. "You've made your decision."

"Yes, "Spencer said and frowned. "I wish circumstances were different, but – "

"No," Emily held up a hand to stop him. "I understand why you're here, Spencer.

"When I started with the BAU, the only person I worried about was me. Now I have Chriscelia and a new baby on the way. I need a new start, and I need to protect my family. I can't do that if I chasing another Scratch, or Cat Adams, or someone like the Reaper."

"You're right," Emily said. "What is it you want to do?"

"I've spoken to Chriscelia about taking over for SSA Roberts when he retires from his teaching position next month. I'd like to remain as a part-time consultant for the team, if you'll allow it and if it suits SC Cruz. If not, then I'll be content with teaching."

"I'm not going to lie to you and say that we'll be fine without you in the field, Spencer, but I see that your mind is made up. I am fine with you consulting for us. I'll have to talk to SC Cruz, but I think he's smart enough to know that we can't afford to lose you. I think you'll make an excellent teacher."

"Thanks, Emily."

Emily smiled at him then stood and rounded her desk. Spencer stood up, and she hugged him tightly. "I hope you find what you're looking for, Spencer."

"In the most important way, I have," he assured her.

Emily smiled. "So, have you decided on who will be your daughter's godmother."

"Geez, between you, JJ, Garcia and Tara – Chriscelia and I can't make up our minds. Don't forget that Pam and Rebecca are vying for the job, as well."

"Perhaps you could name five or six of us to the job."

Emily laughed when Spencer narrowed his eyes and exclaimed, "Our little girl isn't a royal baby, Emily."

"Close enough," Emily joked. "You know this child will be loved and spoiled in equal measure."

Spencer sighed and frowned. "I know," he said gloomily and made Emily laugh. "I'm sure it'll be twice as bad as what you're imaging."

Spencer gaped at her, and she laughed. "I'm teasing you, Spencer.

"I thought, that as my boss, I didn't have to worry about you teasing me."

Emily clucked and shook her head. "You should know better than that, Spencer."

"I do, but I was hoping, in vain, I know now."

Garcia chose that moment to knock on the door. "Sorry, but we have a case. Sweet cheeks," she exclaimed when she realized he stood next to Emily. "Didn't see you, but I'm so glad you're back.

She hugged him tight, and he grinned at her when the parted. "I'm glad to be back. Let's find the others."

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The jet soared through the night sky like an arrow making its way from the bow of Artemis to her prey. Reid lay on the bench with his phone in his hand. He dialed and smiled until the corners of his mouth ached, when Chriscelia answered with a jaunty, _"Mrs. Reid's phone, who's calling?"_

"You love saying that when you know it's me, don't you?"

"Of course," said his smart-mouthed wife.

"Good, because I like hearing you say it."

"I'm glad I could accommodate you," Chriscelia said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Reid laughed and impatiently wondered when their flight was over, so he could hold his wife in his arms and talk to their baby. "I miss you," he said.

"I miss you, too."

"What's wrong," he heard the worry in her voice under the bravado.

"I can't fool you."

"No, you can't," he said and turned to his side facing the back of the bench. "Talk to me, Celia."

"It's the nightmares," she whispered. "Last night was terrible."

"The same one?" Spencer inquired as he tried to keep his emotions under control.

"Yes, and this time you died."

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Chriscelia tried to convince her husband, but he could hear the tears in her voice.

"I'll be home soon, and I have good news."

Spencer heard the intake of her breath, and he smiled. "Emily said yes."

"Yes, and more importantly, SC Cruz agreed to the arrangement. My last day in the field was today."

"Seriously," he heard after a sharp intake of breath.

"Yes, I'm done with fieldwork.

"Are you okay," Chriscelia asked.

Spencer sighed. "Honestly, I'm feeling a bit torn."

"I'd be surprised if you weren't," said Chriscelia. "It'll take time to get used to your new circumstances."

Spencer shifted on the bench and turned to lay on his back. "You're right. It could be worse."

"Yeah."

"I could have a new job with a different employer, and crazy new coworkers."

Chriscelia laughed. "True. You're lucky."

"I feel lucky, but not because I can stay with the FBI, but because I have you and the baby."

"I hope you don't think such pretty words win you any favors."

"Depends what kind of favors you mean?"

"I'm not sure. That's entirely up to you."

Spencer blew out a breath and laughed. "I love you, wife."

"I'm glad because I love you, too."

Spencer ended the call and turned to see JJ smirking at him. "Sorry, but if you don't want your phone calls overheard, you should text instead."

Spencer shrugged. "Doesn't matter. You wanna play poker?"

JJ shook her head then sighed and nodded. "I think I remember saying I'd miss losing to you. I must be nuts."

Spencer didn't answer, but he did grin at her, so she tossed one of her Cheetos at him. "Don't say it."

"I wasn't going to say anything."

"I can see it in your eyes that you're dying to make a smart remark."

"Hey, Chriscelia's not the only one that can be a smart mouth."

"Nice, I think she created a monster."

Spencer laughed, "I'll tell her you said that" he promised as he moved to sit across from JJ. "Where are the cards?"

"You're not dealing," JJ insisted as Luke and Tara joined them.

"I agree," Tara said. "It's only fair that you let us win back some of the snack food we've lost over the years."

Spencer shrugged, but his eyes smiled. "If you think you can beat me, then ante up," he said as Luke took the cards and began to shuffle them.

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Spencer found his wife in her office typing furiously on her laptop. He stood in the doorway watching her as the keys clicked steadily. "I can feel you are staring at me," she said after a minute. "I'm glad you're home."

"I'm glad I'm home too, mostly because I could hear in your voice, that you're upset."

Chriscelia stood and then winced. "Hey," she put her hand on her belly. "I think I felt her kick."

"Really," Spencer moved to her side and put his hand on her belly.

"The doctor said I'd feel it staring between 16 and 22 weeks."

"Sometimes it's more difficult for first-time mothers to distinguish between stomach rumblings and a "quickening," as doctors call it."

"I'm sure it was her," Chriscelia said. "There is again," She said with tears welling up in her eyes. "Can you feel it?"

"No," Spencer said, and disappointment colored his voice. "It'll be a few weeks before I can feel it, too."

"Spencer, I wish – "

"It's okay," Spencer insisted. "I did my research, and I know what to expect. The baby is inside you, so naturally, you'd feel the movements first. The memories of her moving on the ultrasound are enough, for now."

Chriscelia studied him through her glasses, which she only wore when she didn't need to leave the house and was feeling particularly vulnerable. "I remember, too," she said, and fear clouded her beautiful hazel eyes.

"I'm sorry I reminded you of that night and Lindsey."

"Don't blame yourself," Chriscelia said. "I want to think of the good things."

"Me too," Spencer said. "May I ask why you're writing this close to dinner time. You usually break early because of the baby."

Chriscelia went into his arms and hugged him tightly. "I was thinking about the nightmare, and I had to get it out, so I decided to write about it."

Spencer stroked her head with his hand. "Sometimes it helps to write it down. I remember during my first two years in the BAU, I had terrible nightmares. Gideon said writing them down helped, and I did."

"I'm sorry if I brought back bad memories."

Spencer shook his head and led her away from her office and down the stairs to the Great Room. "You didn't bring back bad memories. It was a long time ago, and I found other ways to cope with bad dreams. The most important is that they always pass."

Chriscelia sat down and then yawned. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. You and the baby need rest. Why don't you lay down while I heat the last of the left-over stew?"

Chriscelia's stomach growled, loudly and made Spencer laugh. "See, that time it _was_ stomach rumbling."

"If I weren't so tired," Chriscelia said with another yawn, "I'd make you pay for that."

"Sure," Spencer soothed. "I know."

After they had their small meal, and Spencer insisted on cleaning up the kitchen, he found Chriscelia sound asleep on the sofa. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to their bedroom. He undressed her and tucked her into bed.

"Hi baby," he whispered after he changed into pajamas and crawled in beside his wife. "I love you very much. I can't wait until your kicks are strong enough to feel. I'm sure your mama won't like the kidney shots, but we'll pretend to be sympathetic, okay."

"I heard that," Chriscelia mumbled.

Spencer laughed. "Go back to sleep, Celia."

"Okay," she agreed, and soon her breathing deepened, and a small smile turned up the corners of her mouth. "I hope you can sleep without dreams, but if you have a nightmare, I'm right here beside you."

She turned in her sleep as if she heard him and he tucked her into his arms. "Love you, Mrs. Reid. Thanks for making my life complete."


	40. Chapter 40

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

Chriscelia woke to find Spencer's side of the bed empty. She stretched, pushed to a sitting position, and sighed because neither of them had slept well. Her progressing pregnancy and Spencer's excitement about starting his teaching job had made them both restless. "I think we should go find Daddy," Chriscelia said to the baby. "After I make a bathroom run."

Chriscelia found her husband asleep on the sofa, with his feet up and his head on one of her decorative throw pillows. She reached down to tousle his hair and jerked back when he twitched, and nearly screamed. His face twisted into a grimace of stark terror that sent adrenaline coursing through her body like an electrical charge.

"No! Chriscelia! Where is she? No, no, no. She can't be there. Chriscelia!"

"Spencer," she went to him and crouched down. "Wake up, baby."

"No," he twisted and nearly fell from the sofa. "Have to find our baby. Where is the baby, Chriscelia? No, she can't be there. We can't touch her if she's in the circle. Chriscelia."

He shot up from sleep like a man possessed. His eyes were dark and wild, and his hair stood up in disordered clumps around his head. One hand clutched at her so hard, she yelped and tried to tug away. "Spencer," she cried.

He blinked, looked at her and began to sob. "I'm sorry." Spencer pulled her close and clung to her like a man on a life raft in the middle of a storm-tossed ocean. "Chriscelia. Is that you?"

Spencer's spare frame shook so hard, Chriscelia thought he might break apart like glass shattering on concrete. "I'm here. It's okay, baby."

Spencer pushed her away and stood. He went to one of the windows that looked out over the backyard. March had come in like a lion and left sodden, yellow grass, and gray skies in its wake. The early morning sun tried to shine, but pewter, black and white clouds dominated the sky. The trees in the yard clawed at the sky with naked and black limbs yet to don their spring loveliness. He'd never seen such an ugly morning.

"Spencer. Talk to me. Please!"

Spencer watched the wind toss the trees back and forth, and he shuddered. "It's nothing," he dismissed. "Just a nightmare."

"Spencer."

He finally turned to look at her standing there in her favorite pink robe, with her fuzzy slippers and the curve of her baby belly, and he nearly cried with relief.

"I can't," Spencer said as he went to the sofa and claimed his socks. "I'm sorry I kept you up last night."

"Spencer," she put a hand on his shoulder. "It's all right. I was restless, too. Please tell me about the dream. I heard you calling out for a baby. Was it our baby?"

Spencer looked at her, and she had her hands protectively on her belly, and fear lived in her beautiful hazel eyes. God. He had to make it go away.

Spencer found the courage to smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I don't remember what it was about, Chriscelia. "

"Are you sure, because you had such terror in your eyes when you woke up. You freaked me out a little."

'I'm sorry," he said again. "I guess it's the stress of starting a new job."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, in fact, I'm glad I can't remember because I only want to remember happy dreams. I want to start the day on a good note."

Chriscelia went to him, hugged him, and kissed him. "I do, too. I just wish you didn't feel it necessary to sleep out here. It's your bed, too."

Spencer smiled at her, and most of the shadows left his eyes as he studied her face. "It's fine. Fortunately, we picked a comfortable couch."

"Hm…" Chriscelia said. "Maybe I should have insisted on something uncomfortable."

Spencer squinted at her in confusion. "Why?"

"Because the next time you get out of line and I must banish you to the couch, I don't want you to enjoy it."

Spencer laughed. "Oh, I see."

"Well, yes, it's supposed to be a hardship, so you think twice the next time you do something to incur the wrath of your wife."

Spencer kissed her, and she decided it didn't matter if the couch was comfortable. "Thank you," he said.

"For what?"

"For always keeping me on my toes."

"My pleasure."

He lightly swatted her on the butt, and she glared at him. "Watch it, or I won't make you breakfast, Dr. Reid."

"Oh no, she's calling me Dr. Reid. Could get ugly."

Chriscelia rolled her eyes at him as she made her way to the kitchen. "Go take a shower, husband."

"I love you."

"I love you, too. What do you want for breakfast?"

"You don't have to cook," he said. "I'm fine with coffee."

"No," Chriscelia insisted. "It's your first day as a teacher. You need more than coffee."

Spencer blew out a breath. "I know it's useless to argue with you. Why don't you surprise me?"

Chriscelia rubbed her hands together a cackled like a witch over her cauldron. "You shouldn't have said that."

"Chriscelia!"

"Don't worry; I'll come up with something perfect."

"Don't overdo it."

"What did we agree to a few months ago?"

Spencer frowned then said. "We agreed that you'd know if you're overdoing it. You promised you'd listen to your body and rest when you need it."

"That's right, and I don't need it now."

"Okay," Spencer shrugged. "Whatever you say, my love."

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The little café was popular with Marines and FBI agents alike, mostly because they all appreciated something different from the Academy's cafeteria. Spencer entered the building and stopped to search the tables for a familiar face.

"Dr. Reid," said another familiar face.

"Ruby," he greeted the small, grey-haired woman in white blouse and blue slacks, with a vest of blue and sensible, flat shoes. She beamed a welcoming smile, and her blue eyes twinkled.

"How are you?" He asked after clasping her hand.

"I'm fine, but my feet are killing me."

"Sorry to hear it."

She waved him away. "Don't worry about me. Agent Hotchner's over there. Don't keep him waiting."

"Ruby, you know Hotch isn't an agent anymore."

Ruby's eyes flashed at him. "I know that, son, but you're all agents and family to me."

"I know, and we love you too."

"Then stop yaking at me and go," she directed him to a corner booth.

"Yes, ma'am."

He made his way through the lunchtime crowd to the corner booth with a half-moon seat and a table large enough for six people. Spencer smiled as Hotch motioned him over. "Hi, Hotch. It's good to see you."

Spencer shook Hotch's hand and sat. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," Hotch said, and indeed he did look fine.

Spencer was shocked to see him wearing a pair of jeans, a maroon sweater pushed up at the elbows, and strangest of all, no tie. He smiled, and Spencer felt the world shift again. Hotch didn't look haunted as he had when he'd left the FBI for WitSec. He looked happy and it was – wonderful!

"You look good," Spencer said lamely, and Hotch said. "I could say the same of you. I like the coat."

Chriscelia had bought Spencer new blazer and slacks for his first day because he had refused to "go casual," as she had suggested. The blazer was a shade of royal blue that complimented his eyes and his golden-brown locks. He'd insisted on a light blue shirt, with a navy-blue tie dotted with white. His slacks were khaki, and he wore new Converse with his favorite mismatched socks.

"Thanks, Chriscelia wanted me to wear jeans and a polo shirt, but I put my foot down."

Hotch shook his head. "I think you look the part of a teacher."

"You look the part of a full-time dad. How are you?"

"I'm great, and Jack is doing better than I ever imagined. He's happy in his new school, and that he's able to reconnect with his old friends on the weekends. He's handling all this better than I could ever hope. He amazes me."

"I'm glad."

Their server approached and took their lunch order. "I'm glad we could do this on your first day."

Reid smiled. "I had two classes this morning and one this afternoon. I'll be home by five tonight."

Hotch's eyebrows lifted. "How does it feel to go home at a decent hour?" Spencer grinned, and Hotch chuckled. "I know how you feel. I remember the first morning I woke after we came home from witness protection and I realized that I didn't have to get up and put on a suit. I didn't have to take Jack to Jessica's and that I could cook him breakfast and have a conversation."

"How did Jack react?"

"It was funny," Hotch said, and his constant smile made Spencer feel a bit disjointed, but it was a good feeling of unreality. "I got up, put on what I always considered to be weekend clothes, and went to the kitchen. Jack was in there making pancakes."

"Seriously."

"Yeah, he said he wanted to make me breakfast. He's a great kid or I should say that he's a wonderful young man. He's going to be thirteen soon."

Spencer shook his head as the server warmed their coffee and brought their lunch. "I don't know if I can believe it."

"I can't believe that you're going to be a father," Hotch said.

"Me either."

"That's not to say I never thought you wouldn't find someone, but – I don't know, I guess I thought we'd all stay at the FBI forever."

"Me too," Spencer said. "I understand what you mean. I shudder to think of my life if I hadn't run into Chriscelia in that airport. I can't believe it's only been fifteen months. It seems like forever and as though it were yesterday at the same time."

"I'm glad for you," Hotch said.

"I wish you had someone," Reid said as he dug into chicken salad sandwich.

"One day," Hotch said. "I'm not quite ready for that yet. I want to spend time with Jack and make up for all the lost years."

"You know he loves you," Spencer said.

"Yes, he does, but I need to make him believe that I put him first."

They ate in silence for a while, then Hotch said. "What's on your mind, Spencer?"

Spencer didn't bother to ask how Hotch knew. Somethings never changed, like Hotch's ability to read him in an instant. "I had the old nightmare last night."

Hotch studied him for a moment. "The baby in the circle."

"Yes, only this time it was my baby. I was terrified, and I frightened Chriscelia."

"I'm sure she understood."

"I didn't tell her, Hotch."

Hotch put down his spoon and studied his former subordinate. "Why?"

Spencer chewed, swallowed, and sighed. "I saw how frightened she was by hearing me talk in my sleep. I couldn't tell her about the dream. She'd freak out."

"I don't think you're giving her enough credit, Spencer. She's a remarkable woman. I know you've been through a terrible ordeal and now you're starting a new job. I think that's why your dreams are dark."

"I'm supposed to be strong for her."

Hotch sipped his coffee. "You are strong for her, Spencer. Let her be strong for you. She can handle it if you're honest."

"You're right. I guess I forgot that she has demons, too."

"Talk to her," Hotch said. "Don't make my mistakes."

Spencer nodded. "All right. I'll talk to her.

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Spencer found his wife dressed in a new pair of maternity sweatpants and a long-sleeved tee shirt with a purple sweater, sitting on the sofa with a book in her hands. "Hey," she greeted him with a kiss. "I'm trying to stay awake long enough to have dinner with you."

"Did you have a nap?"

"Yeah, but – well never mind about that. I called the Indian Pearl, and they're delivering dinner. I thought you might want Indian after your first day. How did it go?"

"The classes were fun. I wondered if I'd enjoy them, but I didn't expect them to be fun. I am glad that I had some experience as a substitute for Rossi, though. It was easier because it wasn't the first time."

"I'm glad. How's Hotch?"

"He's great. He's happy and rested. I think his new job as a full-time dad agrees with him."

"Good."

"He said to tell you hello and sent his love. Also, I'm supposed to tell you that Jack said hello as well, and he wants to know when he can come visit and see more magic."

Chriscelia laughed. "I hope you told Hotch that he and Jack are welcome anytime."

"I did."

Chriscelia took Spencer's hand and touched his wedding band. "What else is bothering you?"

Spencer blew out a breath. "I can't fool you or Hotch."

Chriscelia didn't speak, but her eyes searched his face for answers to questions he wished he could put away forever. "I lied to you this morning when I said I didn't remember my dream."

Spencer watched her eyes and saw only understanding them. "I know," she said softly. "I don't understand why."

Spencer squeezed her hand. "I lied because I didn't want to scare you."

"Spencer, I think –"

"Please, let me finish," he interrupted.

"Go on."

Spencer looked at her hands instead of her face. "Years ago when I was new at the BAU, I had this recurring nightmare. I don't remember much about it, but what I remember was terrifying. Now, all these years later, it's much worse than I remember."

"Tell me," Chriscelia said, as she put her hands to his face and tugged it up to look her in the eyes.

"I'm in a room, and there's a baby girl in the middle of a circle. There's someone on the other side, and I can't get to her before… oh, god. Last night I dreamed it was our baby. I knew it was her and that I wouldn't be in time, Chriscelia."

Chriscelia wrapped him in her arms and held him until he stopped shaking. "I can see why you didn't want to tell me, Spencer."

"I _did_ freak you out," he said as he pulled away and wiped at his eyes.

"Yes, but I understand. It was just a dream, Spencer."

"I don't know why I'm dragging our little girl into my nightmares."

Chriscelia shook her head. "Yes, you do. We were kidnapped, Spencer. You've spent the last weeks helping me through my bad dreams and my hypervigilance every time the doorbell rings. You've held me when I cry, and you've made me laugh every day. Now, it's time we take care of you."

"Chriscelia, your trauma won't go away in a few weeks."

"And," Chriscelia said over him. "Neither will yours, Spencer. Let's deal with this together for the sake of our daughter."

Spencer nodded. "I promise."

"Promise me that you'll talk to me, Spencer, no matter what. I need you to let me be strong for you."

"Hotch told me the same thing at lunch. He said I need to let you be there for me."

"He's right."

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm afraid because you're pregnant."

Chriscelia cuddled up in his arms. "I'm not made of glass, Spencer. I can handle this. In fact, helping you helps me because I'm not thinking of myself all the time."

Spencer smiled at her. "I get that."

"Good, now the food is going to be here soon. Let's set the table and turn on the fire. It's been an ugly, and cold day. I want to watch the firelight dance, and I want you to relax."

"I promise."

Chriscelia kissed him just as the doorbell rang. "There's the food."

"Don't go away," he said.

"I won't, just hurry because I'm starving."


	41. Chapter 41

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

 _ **A/n thanks to all my readers who made my Profiler's Choice Award win, possible. I won for best Reid/Morgan with, "Brothers," and I achieved runner-up status in the Best Characterization of Reid for "Visitor." Thank you all... you're the best!** _

Chriscelia left the restroom and threaded her way back to the booth where Pam and Rebecca waited for her. She wound her way to the end of the room and wondered why they'd agreed to sit there. She noticed that several people looked at her, then at her pregnant belly, then beamed at her and nodded as if she'd just cured cancer. Some people had the look of wanting to touch her belly, which she didn't understand. It was creepy that total strangers wanted to touch her as if her pregnancy meant that boundaries went out the window.

"Sorry, guys," she apologized when she finally made it back to the booth and could slip her belly out of sight of a room full of strangers. "I hate this part of pregnancy."

"Aw, you're so cute though, with your baby bump poking out," Rebecca enthused.

"Don't start," Chriscelia warned. "People were staring at me all the way back from the restroom. I swear people think they can stare, and touch a pregnant woman just because she's creating life."

"I get it," Rebecca said, gravely and laughed when Chriscelia glared at her. "All right, it is creepy. Don't worry; we'll protect you," she assured her friend. "We got your back."

Pam rolled her eyes and sipped her iced tea. "Have you decided who's going to be godmother?"

Chriscelia sighed as her eyes took in the other patrons around them and wondered if she would be able to get out of the restaurant without more stares and creepy smiles. "No," she said shortly. "Between you two, Penelope, Tara, JJ and Emily bugging us day in the day out, we can't decide."

"Look, those guys are people Spencer works with," Rebecca reminded Chriscelia. "I know they're your new friends, and Spencer thinks of them as a family, but we're your best friends."

"Guys, don't make this harder than it is," Chriscelia pleaded and tears welled up in her eyes.

"Hey, we didn't mean to make you cry," Rebecca soothed. "We're sorry."

"No, it's not you. It's the _damn_ hormones and mood swings," Chriscelia took in and deep breath and blew it out. "I thought the meditation app I downloaded was helping me get a hold of my hormonal changes, but after today, I'm not so sure."

"How are you doing otherwise?" Pam asked as the waiter brought the entrees.

"Better," Chriscelia said and took a bite of her batter-fried, fish taco. "Oh, this is _so_ good. Don't tell Spencer I had this. He's all about healthy eating. I agree, but a girl has to cheat once in a while."

"Hear, hear," Pam raised her water glass. "Now _that_ is the Chriscelia I know."

"Thanks, but I'm still working on feeling my old self. I get freaked out sometimes, especially when I'm alone. Dr. Osorio is helping, but I get angry with myself when I jump at the closing of a door. I don't want to be frightened when Spencer comes home at night."

"Spencer understands," Rebecca said. "You have the most amazing husband, Chrissy. Are you sure he doesn't have brothers, or nephews, or cousins?"

"No," Chriscelia laughed. "There's no one like my husband. Spencer's kind, gentle, hot, and he has a badge and gun."

"Gag," Pam teased. "Some of us are trying to eat."

Chriscelia tossed a tortilla chip at her friend. "Seriously. Thank you guys for helping me pick out Spencer's gift. I want to see him smile again."

"It's only been a year since his mother passed," Pam said. "He knows there's no time limit on grief."

"Yeah," Chriscelia agreed. "I keep telling him that, but I think he still blames himself for disrupting her life right before she died."

"From what you told us," Rebecca said. "He thought he did the right thing."

"Yes," Chriscelia nodded.

"Then he shouldn't feel guilty," Pam put in. "There are a _ton_ of men out there that _completely_ ignore their mothers."

"I keep telling him that. I'm hoping that our brainstorm will help him."

"It will," Rebecca said.

"Now," Pam said. "We've talked about you and your guy long enough. How about we talk about me?"

Chriscelia and Rebecca groaned in unison. "Not funny," Chriscelia complained.

"We should talk about me," Rebecca argued and ducked when Chriscelia tossed another tortilla chip at her coppery red curls.

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When Spencer entered his house, he found it unusually quiet. "Celia," he called out and walked through the nursery to their bedroom. His wife wasn't there, so he kicked off his shoes, put down his messenger bag and pulled off his jacket. He tugged at his tie and pulled his shirt from his pants as he walked back toward the Great Room.

He found the room in shadows, instead of lit with the golden glow of the afternoon sun. "Babe," he said and started a little to see Chriscelia lying on the sofa. "Honey, you awake," he said softly.

"Oh," she blinked and yawned. "I was trying to stay awake, but I think I overdid my afternoon nap."

"Don't worry," Spencer soothed. "You need your rest. I'm just wondering why the curtains are drawn."

"I pulled them shut so I can sleep, and I think I made it a little too dark because I slept for three hours. That's too long for a nap."

"Why don't we order dinner?"

"That sounds good, but I want Chinese this time."

Spencer frowned, and Chriscelia smirked at him. "I haven't given up trying to teach you to use chopsticks."

"As I told my team many years ago, it's like trying to forage for food with two number ten pencils."

Chriscelia burst out laughing and hugged him tightly. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Chriscelia stopped him as he attempted to rise to his feet. "Don't order yet. I have a surprise for you."

Spencer watched as she pulled back the curtains and gestured to the backyard. "Surprise."

Spencer didn't see the difference at first, but then he saw, waving in the breeze, a change to the landscaped greenery.

"What is that?"

"It's a new lilac bush I had put in by a company that Rebecca recommended. I know it's your mom's favorite flower, and since she was cremated, and you don't have a grave to visit, I thought I give you something to enjoy for years to come."

Spencer swept her into his arms and hugged her tight. "I love you, Celia. It's going to be so beautiful."

"Yes," Chriscelia agreed. "I love lilacs, and it will be gorgeous in a few weeks."

"Thank you," Spencer breathed. "You're the most wonderful, and thoughtful and –" Spencer suddenly stopped, pulled back and put his hand on her belly. "Was that a kick?"

"You felt that," Chriscelia squeaked and tears filled her hazel eyes. "I didn't want to say anything because I've felt the movement for a few weeks and you haven't," she rambled. "I was afraid you'd be upset."

"No. I'm so happy," he said and dropped to his knees.

Spencer kissed her belly and said. "Hey, sweet girl. I felt you kick my little princess. I love you so much. I can't adequately express it. I can't wait for you to be born."

"Me either," sighed Chriscelia. "I'm so glad you felt the kick."

"Between this and the new addition to our backyard, I feel like I'm on top of the world."

"There is more," Chriscelia said.

"I don't need more," Spencer protested as Chriscelia went to the sofa and moved a throw pillow. She picked up an envelope and gave it to her husband.

"Look," she urged with shining eyes.

Spencer opened the envelope and found two tickets for the 50th anniversary showing of 2001 Space Odyssey at the Globe Theater in DC.

"Wow, I heard it was coming, but I decided not to go because I know you hate the movie."

"I don't _hate_ it," Chriscelia denied. "I think it's incomprehensible, that's all. I know you love it, though. Perhaps if I see it on the big screen, I'll change my opinion."

"Are you sure," Spencer persisted. "It's a long movie and –"

"I want to go, husband," she said firmly. "I want to see a smile on your face."

"Thank you," he hugged her again and surveyed the tickets. "Oh," he said and frowned as disappointment clouded his eyes.

"What's wrong."

"The tickets say April 3rd."

"So?"

"That's your birthday, remember."

"Yes, I remember. Why is that a problem?"

Spencer led her back to the sofa. "I'm not forcing you to watch a movie you don't enjoy on your birthday. It's not fair to you."

"Babe," she laid a hand on his sun brightened face. "I don't need special treatment on my birthday. I want you to smile, that's all the gift I need."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she kissed him. "Now, go order the food. The pregnant lady is hungry."

Spencer chuckled and laid a gentle hand on her belly. "Did you hear that little one, mommy is hungry. There's something I've _never_ heard before."

Chriscelia made to grab him, but he bolted off the sofa. "Watch the sarcasm, buddy," she warned. "That's my territory."

"Is it?"

"Yes."

Spencer let her tug him into her arms and kiss him until he couldn't breathe. "Wow, I love the way you kiss, Mrs. Reid."

"Ditto, Dr. Reid."

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Spencer linked hands with Chriscelia as they left the Globe Theater and threaded their way through the crowd of fellow sci-fi enthusiasts. "What did you think?" Spencer asked as they strolled down the street to the SUV.

"My opinion hasn't changed," Chriscelia said. "I know Stanley Kubrick is talented. I love "The Shining," but I don't understand the point of that movie. The cinematography is gorgeous, the acting is superb, and the music is beautiful, but what is the point?" She asked, again.

"Most people think that it's about evolution and the need to survive. We survive at all costs and use the tools we create or are given. We kill each other for resources and sacrifice others for the survival of all. In the film, humans create AI to serve them, and yet that computer, programmed to reproduce our brain function, goes mad. It kills humans only to ensure its survival. We want control, and when we don't, we lose ourselves. It's a metaphor."

"Okay, I get that, but what's up with the space baby and that black box thing."

"Well, I think the baby is the evolutionary cycle starting again. I'm not sure about the monolith. Perhaps it enhances intelligence and moves evolution forward."

"I get that with the apes, but what about the men that find it on the moon?"

Spencer shrugged. "I guess it's up to you to decide."

Chriscelia frowned, the laughed. "I know," she said. "I just wanted to hear you explain it all."

Spencer shook his head. "Thank you for listening?" He said, sarcastically.

"You're doing the sarcasm thing again."

Spencer squeezed her hand. "I love you for trying to keep my mind off my mother. It's been rough for the last couple of weeks, but I'm feeling better."

"I'm glad," Chriscelia said as the reached the car.

"Now, you've sacrificed your birthday for me, and I thank you, but I want to do something to mark the occasion."

Chriscelia stretched up on her toes and whispered something in his ear. He flushed and was glad the blush couldn't be seen in the dark. "Are you sure that's possible at this stage of pregnancy."

"You never know until you try," Chriscelia said. "Don't worry, I talked to my doctor, and she said intercourse in the third trimester is perfectly safe."

"Then I suppose we better go home."


	42. Chapter 42

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

"Are you sure you're up to this, today?" Spencer asked as Chriscelia pulled a maternity tee-shirt over her head.

The pink top covered her nine-month baby belly, and matched the pink and white windowpane maternity Capris she wore. What didn't match, was the annoyed expression on her face.

"Spencer, I'm a week away from my due date. My ankles are retaining more water than the average elephant. I've been on maternity leave," Chriscelia made quotes with her fingers as she talked, "for the last five weeks. I'm bored. I have heartburn, my back aches, and my mood swings are out of control. It's the first big holiday of the season, and I want to celebrate it."

Spencer watched as his wife stepped into a pair of flip-flops. She glared at him with blazing eyes, and he decided his life wasn't worth arguing. "All right," he said, soothingly. "I know better than to get in your way."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" Chriscelia demanded.

Spencer was saved from answering by a knock at the door. He hurried out and saw that to his relief, Pam and Rebecca stood on the other side. He let them in with a sigh. "Thank God you're here."

"What's going on?" Rebecca wondered.

"He's trying to talk me out of hosting this party," Chriscelia said irritably.

Pam smiled at her friend. "Come on; I need to put this ice cream and the root beer into that amazing refrigerator of yours."

Chriscelia gave Spencer one last glare and walked away with her friend.

"What was that all about?"

Spencer and Rebecca followed Pam and Chriscelia, but at a pace that kept them out of earshot of Spencer's wife. "She's upset because she's a week away from her due date. She's eager to give birth."

"Oh, I see," said Rebecca.

"Here," Spencer reached for the bag she carried. "Let me take that."

"Thanks."

"You've known her for years, what do I do?" Spencer whispered.

"Let it go," Rebecca said. "You know she's high strung."

"Hurry up," Chriscelia hollered from the kitchen "Stop talking about me and get in here."

Rebecca shrugged inside the purple, white and green striped tank top she wore over denim shorts. "Let's go."

They entered the kitchen and found Chriscelia with her back to the doorway. Spencer saw that she was removing the hamburger patties she'd formed that morning. She always said that you had to let meat come to room temperature before grilling.

"Hey babe," Chriscelia said, and she smiled in a way that lit up her eyes. "When're Morgan and Savannah gonna be here."

"In time to take over the barbecue," he said cautiously.

"Good," she said and hugged him. "I'm sorry I growled at you. I just want her out of me," she put her hands on her belly.

"It's okay," Spencer assured her.

Tara and Emily arrived with Hotch and Jack right behind her. JJ, Will, Henry, and Michael knocked on the door ten minutes later, with Rossi and Hayden next. Luke brought Roxie much to the boys' delight. They greeted her enthusiastically, and in five minutes, she happily chased a stick they threw.

"She loves to run after stuff," Luke said as Garcia, Morgan, Savannah, Hank, and Sam made their appearances at the same time.

Garcia hugged Chriscelia carefully. "You like wonderful."

"Right now, I feel… good. Give it a minute, though, and my mood may swing into scary territory."

"Please," Garcia waved away the possibility. "We made it through two of JJ's pregnancies. This is a breeze."

" _Excuse_ me," JJ said from where she sliced apples for a fruit salad. "I heard that, Penelope."

Garcia didn't flinch at the irritation in JJ's blue eyes. "She's got you there," agreed Will.

JJ narrowed her eyes at him, and he backed away. "Sorry, mon cher."

"Don't mon cher, me."

"It's true," Spencer put in. "You had an average of three mood swings in any given hour the last month of your pregnancy with Michael."

"How do _you_ know?" JJ challenged. "We don't live in the same house."

"Yes, I'd like to know how you arrived at that figure," Chriscelia asked, sweetly.

Spencer looked back and forth between the women. "Careful," Emily advised with a grin.

"I simply calculated the average number of mood swings we," he gestured to the others who milled around the Great Room. "experienced," he went on, "when we worked. It's unlikely that number changed because she went home at night."

"Don't include _us_ in your calculations," Rossi said firmly. "You can dig a grave for yourself, alone."

The others laughed, and Reid shrugged. JJ shook her head, but she smiled, and Chriscelia laid her head on his arm. "That's my guy!"

Rossi rolled his eyes, and Hayden smirked at him. "I like her," she said with some enthusiasm. "She reminds me of me when I was pregnant."

"Come on," Hotch said. "Let's get the meat on the barbecue."

"Yes sir," Morgan said.

"You're going outside with the guys," JJ advised Chriscelia. "Sit and relax. We'll handle the kitchen."

"But, I'm fine and I can - " Chriscelia began to protest.

"JJ is right," Pam said. "Rebecca will keep you company."

"Yes," Rebecca said. "You know I'm hopeless in the kitchen. Let's go find a place in the shade and have the first lemonade of the season."

Chriscelia allowed herself to be led out of the kitchen and into the May sunshine. The weather seemed to understand that it was Memorial Day and cooperated with golden sunlight, cobalt blue skies without a cloud in sight and a light, cool breeze. The temperature hovered at about seventy-eight degrees. Chriscelia's eyes took in the new lilac bush, in full bloom. The purple blossoms made her smile, and she glanced over at Spencer who stood talking with his friends. He looked good enough to eat, in a pair of blue shorts, a white tee shirt and blue Converse shoes with his signature mismatched socks.

"Hey," Rebecca waved a hand in front of her face. "Stop staring. You're drooling."

"No, I'm _not_ ," Chriscelia denied.

They made their way to a couple of comfortable looking camp chairs Spencer had set up beneath the shade of their huge elm tree.

"Yes, you are," Rebecca picked up the conversation after handing Chriscelia a tall glass of cold lemonade.

"Perfect," Chriscelia said after a sip. "Just the way I like it, nice and sweet."

"Back to Spencer, and you denying that you were staring." Rebecca prompted with a smirk.

"Stop it," Chriscelia hissed as the boys hurried by in their pursuit of Roxy, who joyfully barked as she led them around the huge backyard. "The guys will hear us."

Rebecca said. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to upset you."

Chriscelia sighed. "I'm just irritated because looking at my husband is the only thing I feel like doing now that I'm the size of a baby hippo."

"You _are_ not," Rebecca denied. "You've done an amazing job watching your weight gain. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks," Chriscelia said, then she grimaced. "Ow."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just a pain in the back," Chriscelia said as she took in a breath. "I'm fine."

"You sure?"

Chriscelia shook her head. "I know what you're thinking, and I'm not in labor."

Rebecca shrugged. "If you say so."

"I do. I'm still a week away from my due date, unfortunately."

"I hope you're right because it's a beautiful day and I'm looking forward to a thick, juicy hamburger and some of that pasta salad Dave carried in."

"I second that," Chriscelia said and raised her glass.

Rebecca smiled at her and pushed up her sunglasses. "Let's just sit here and enjoy watching the guys do all the work."

" _Again_ , I second that," Chriscelia said as they clinked glasses.

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Rebecca had her burger, pasta salad, fruit salad, potato salad, celery sticks with cream cheese, and several deviled eggs, washed down with two more glasses of lemonade. They all enjoyed the delicious food and the company. In the midst of the feast, Roxie sat on her haunches next to Spencer and begged for scraps.

"I don't think Luke wants me to feed you," Reid told her as she whined, and her dark eyes pleaded for a treat.

"Roxie," Luke whistled, and she went to him. "Stop bothering Spencer." He patted her head and went to the barbecue where he'd save two uncooked and unseasoned hamburger patties for her.

Roxie wolfed them down as though the food was about to be banned for dogs and they all laughed. Afterward, she went back to Spencer but sat in contented silence as they ate.

"She's pretty," Michael lisped and toddled over to pet the dog, who sat still and let the young boy scratch behind her ears.

"Yes, she is," Garcia admired.

"She likes the spring weather because we spend more time outdoors," Luke explained.

"I'm so glad we had a sunny day," Tara exclaimed. "Picnics aren't the same if you have to move them inside."

"Agreed," Emily said. "There's nothing like the first part of the summer."

"We learned about Memorial Day in school," said Henry. "My teacher said it's a day to remember soldiers that died to protect us. She said that's why people fly the flag," he pointed to the American flag on a pole standing at the end of Reid's back porch. It fluttered in the wind, and the red, white and blue stood out against the green of the grass, and the red of the brick house in vivid detail.

"That's right," JJ said. "Luke and Roxie were soldiers in a place called Afghanistan."

"A dog can't be a soldier," Henry disagreed.

"Actually," Luke said after swallowing a bite of his burger. "Dogs can be soldiers just like a dog can be a police officer."

"Oh," Henry said, then he brightened. "I saw police dogs at school with some cops. They showed us all kinds of neat stuff like sniffing for drugs, and then they put this funny looking suit on one of the cops and had the dog arrest him."

The others laughed, and Spencer said. "Sometimes dogs can stop a bad guy better than the police because they have exceptional olfactory senses."

"What's olfactory," Henry sounded out the word.

"It means what things smell like," Chriscelia said. "A dog can smell things we can't like drugs."

"Oh, but why was Roxie a soldier? Did she arrest the bad guys, too?"

"Roxie is trained to smell the stuff that makes bombs. She lets the humans know there is a bomb and then we can avoid it. She saved my life and the lives of my friends, many times. She also saved a little girl that lived in the middle of the war."

"I'm glad we don't have war," Henry said.

"Me too," Luke said. "Soldiers protect us so that other men don't come here and try to make us do things we don't want to do or live a certain way."

"Mom," Henry said. "Can I be a soldier when I'm big? I want to protect you."

JJ looked at Will with concern deep in her eyes, then she turned back to Henry and said. "You can be anything you want, Henry."

"Are you sad, Mom?"

"No, honey. I was just thinking about you growing up. I want you to stay a little boy always."

Henry frowned and said. "I don't _want_ to stay a little boy."

The others laughed, and Will said. "Sometimes it's hard for parents to see their kids grow up because we don't like change."

"I do," Henry said. "I like that its summer and I'm almost out of school."

"Oh, to be a kid again," said Rossi and they all smiled in agreed.

"You want to be little again," Jack asked. "Why?"

"You'll understand when you're grown up," Rossi said, as Hotch shook his head.

"I'm glad that Chriscelia's having a baby so we can spoil her," Garcia said.

"Garcia," Spencer groaned. "Don't start."

"Why not?"

"Spence, you should know better than to try to get Garcia to stop spoiling the kids. Look at them," JJ indicated the kids with her spoon. "They're all spoiled by Aunty Penelope."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Spencer said gloomily.

Beside him, Chriscelia stiffened. "Be afraid later, husband. I think I'm in labor."


	43. Chapter 43

_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

Spencer unlocked the front door to the house and keyed in the alarm code. Chriscelia followed, slowly and shut the door, hard. Spencer decided not to comment on the almost slamming of the front door because his wife had every reason to be upset.

"You wanna lay down," he asked.

Chriscelia glared at him, then veered off into the nursery. "Don't follow me," she warned when he stepped inside. "I don't wanna talk."

"I wasn't going to suggest we talk," Spencer said, as calmly as he could.

"Oh yeah, you're an ex-profiler and a psychologist. You think I should talk about my feelings. If you wanna know my feelings," she huffed, then she dropped into the rocking chair Spencer bought for the nursery and began to sob. "I'm sorry," she squeaked when he crouched beside her.

"Why? It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is," she argued. "Dr. Elway warned me about Braxton-Hicks. She said it's common in the late stages of pregnancy."

"Honey, this is your first pregnancy. You don't know what to expect."

"I should've listened to you. You asked me three times if I was sure it was labor, and I didn't listen. I panicked and made you take me to the hospital. I ruined our party. I'm sure everyone thinks I'm an idiot."

"No one thinks you're an idiot," Spencer assured her. "JJ's been through it twice. I'm sure Hotch remembers what it was like with Jack, and Savannah knows all too well.

"I should've listened to her, too. Why didn't I?"

"Babe, you were scared," Spencer repeated, "And I know you want our little girl to meet the world. Everyone will understand. I promise."

Chriscelia's cell phone rang, but she shook her head. "Let it go to voicemail. It's Pam."

Instead of following his wife's advice, Spencer risked her wrath and answered the phone. He talked to Pam for several minutes then said. "She sends her love, Celia. She said the kitchen's cleaned and the foods in the refrigerator. Everyone pitched in to clean up and they want you to rest. I agree."

Chriscelia pushed up from the rocker with obvious struggle, but she waved Spencer away when he tried to follow her. He heard her go into the bathroom, and several minutes later heard the shower begin to run.

Spencer decided to go up to his office and work on the book he'd begun to write during his spare time, which he had in abundance. Grading papers and planning lectures didn't take all his time, and after a couple of weeks teaching, he'd decided to write a book on profiling. Chriscelia and Rossi had encouraged him with enthusiasm born of true interest.

After about thirty minutes of steady writing, the voice of his wife pulled him from his memories of Chester Hardwick and the trap he'd set him and Hotch. "Hey," Chriscelia said, softly as she entered the room. "Am I bothering you?"

Spencer saw that she wore a pair of maternity pajamas which consisted of a tee-shirt and Capri style bottoms. She wore her favorite pink terrycloth robe and walked on bare feet. "Honey, what are you doing up here? You shouldn't be climbing the stairs."

Chriscelia burst into tears, and he leaped up to sweep her into his arms. He tugged her into her office, which boasted a daybed he'd bought for her when she'd reached her second trimester and began to tire more often when writing. He made her sit, then reached for her favorite throw blanket. They cuddled up together, and he held her while she cried.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't know what's wrong me."

Spencer didn't answer, but he did sit and rub her arm, slowly up and down until she lifted her head from his shoulder. "Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome. You want to tell me."

"You know me too well," she confessed as she wiped her eyes and nose with a Kleenex, Spencer produced.

"I know that my wife is upset, and I want to help if I can."

"You're too good to me," Chriscelia said. "I've been a bitch for weeks, and you've taken it without complaint."

"You haven't been a bitch for weeks, just cranky on and off."

Chriscelia stared at him, then laughed, which sounded like music to his ears. "I hate to admit it, but you and Dr. Osorio are right. I've been freaked out. The closer it gets to my due date, the more afraid I am. I want to meet our daughter, and I want my body back to normal, but… then I think about how much it's going to hurt, and… god, the pain isn't the most frightening aspect of this." Chriscelia pointed at her belly.

"Tell me," Spencer said and tightened his arms around her as they sat with their backs to the brass headboard.

"I'm afraid for her," Chriscelia put her hands on her belly. "I'm scared that she's coming into a world that doesn't care about her, that will try to hurt and debase her at every possible turn."

"Babe," Spencer whispered into her hair. "I know you're scared. I'm scared, too, but our daughter has something other kids don't have."

"What's that?" Chriscelia inquired.

"She has you. You are beautiful, intelligent, strong, caring, generous, and funny."

"Spencer – I'm not looking for compliments."

"I realize that," he said with a smile. "I just want you to know that our daughter's going to have the best mother possible in this messed up world."

"I can't protect her from everything, Spencer. That _scares_ me.

"Me too, but we also have everyone from the BAU, Morgan, Hotch, Pam, Rebecca and more. We don't have to worry about her going through life without someone to guide her and teach her."

"Well," Chriscelia said. "They say it takes a village."

Spencer smiled at the softening of her tone and the sparkle in her hazel eyes. "That's true."

Chriscelia rubbed her eyes. "I wish there were some way to make all the fear go away."

"You can't," Spencer said. "You _can_ talk to me, or any of our friends. As Morgan says, "Girl, we got your back." Spencer attempted to mimic his brother and made Chriscelia laugh.

"I'm going to tell him that you tried to impersonate him," she teased, and Spencer grinned.

"There she is, my wonderful, gorgeous and sarcastic wife."

"You may be sorry I'm back."

Spencer shook his head. "Nope. You hungry. It's still early."

Chriscelia smirked at him. "You have to ask. I didn't finish my burger, and I didn't get a root beer float for dessert."

"Then we better go find the leftovers."

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Chriscelia parked her little red car and tried to hurry into the supermarket and out of the heat. It was June 4th, her due date and mother nature had decided to make believe the calendar said July. The temperature on her phone said eighty-five, and it was nine in the morning.

When she stepped into the building, she sighed at the realization that someone had turned on the air conditioning. How did people do without it, she wondered as she picked up a basket and hurried to the fruits and vegetables. She craved fresh peaches with a bit of brown sugar and cream. She added half a dozen beautiful peaches to the basket, then went to find the cream. She looked at the list on her phone and swerved off to grab a loaf of bread.

Pain shot through her back as she was about to grab a dozen eggs. "Ow," she said and paused for breath.

"You okay," said a man that reminded her slightly of her grandfather. He stood tall for a man who looked like he might be close to eighty, and he had kind gray eyes.

"Oh, yes," she assured him. "It's just false labor again."

The older man nodded to her and she thought that if he had a hat, he'd tip it. He smiled and said. "You take care, young lady."

She smiled as she added the eggs to her basket, and then she walked toward her last item, a container of hummus for Spencer. He liked it with celery sticks for a snack. She smiled to think of how wonderful he'd been for the last two months of her pregnancy, especially the last week. She needed to think of something to do for him after the baby came. Maybe they could plan a trip. Everyone, except for Rossi had offered to take care of the baby for them if they wanted alone time.

Chriscelia smiled to herself as she remembered Morgan teasing Rossi about refusing babysitting duties. "I'm not as young as you kids," he'd said. "I need my sleep."

"You're not young enough to babysit, but you're still young enough to chase psychos," Emily had observed as the others laughed.

"Babies are more frightening than psychos."

Chriscelia giggled and reached for the hummus. At the same time, she felt another pain, but this time she nearly doubled over, and something gave way. She heard a splash and felt liquid running down her bare legs. "Ma'am," said the same man from the dairy section. "Your water's broken. You need to get to a hospital."

"I don't – I need my husband. _Ow!_ Oh, my god, it hurts."

She didn't notice that several other people were looking at her. The older gentleman took her arm. "Ma'am, I'm a retired surgeon. Let me help you."

She let him lead her to the front of the store. He pulled a phone out of his pocket and dialed 911 as soon as they made it to the line of checkout registers. "Ma'am," he said to a young woman staffing one of the registers. "Can you help her sit?"

He spoke rapidly on the phone as the young woman cleared a spot on the round counter area right in front of the plastic bag carousel. "Sit here," said the girl as Chriscelia nodded gratefully. "Thank you. I'm sorry about this."

"Hey," said the girl. "It's no big deal. I think it's awesome. You're having a baby.

Chriscelia pulled her phone out of her bag and hit the speed dial for Spencer. "Hey babe, guess what?"

"Chriscelia."

She ignored the surprise in his voice. "I'm in labor. My water just broke."

"Where are you?" He squeaked. "I'll come get you."

"Too late, this nice man already called 911 for me."

"Where are you?" Spencer repeated.

"At the grocery store, but babe, it'll be too late by the time you get here. Just go to the hospital. Ow!" She cried out again and nearly dropped her phone. " _Damn_ it."

"Ma'am, the ambulance is on its way," said the man as he picked up her hand and began to take her pulse.

"Chriscelia." She heard Spencer screaming for her.

"I'm fine babe. Just a contraction. I'll see you soon."

"Ma'am, what's your name?" Asked the doctor.

"I'm Chriscelia Reid."

"Chriscelia, I assume that was your husband."

"Yes, he's meeting us."

"Good. My name is Norman Chatsworth. I used to be Dr. Chatsworth, but you can call me Norm, okay."

"Okay," she agreed.

"Your pulse rate is a little high. Try to slow your breathing, okay. Think about what you learned in Lamaze class."

Chriscelia thought about it and concentrated on the in and out of her breath. She thought of her meditation app and tried to follow the breath where it was most noticeable.

"Good," said Dr. Chatsworth. "That's very good."

"Thank you," Chriscelia gasped. "I'll bet you didn't expect this when you came in here today."

Dr. Chatsworth smiled, and it crinkled his face most delightfully. "It doesn't matter, young lady. I was a bit bored, and that's when I remembered I was out of orange juice. I love it in the morning with my bacon and eggs."

Chriscelia laughed as she heard sirens in the distance. "I wanted fresh peaches and cream."

"My mother used to give us that for a snack in summer," Dr. Chatsworth said. "Now, stay still while I take your pulse again."

She stayed still, but just as he let go of her wrist, another contraction shot through her back and she forgot everything until the paramedics arrived. It all became a blur as she found herself strapped to a gurney and loaded onto the ambulance. She didn't notice if Dr. Chatsworth came with her all she could think of was Spencer, and that soon they'd have their baby girl.


	44. Chapter 44

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

Seven hours after reaching the hospital, Dr. Elway met Spencer and Chriscelia in the delivery room. Spencer wore a gown, mask, and booties on his shoes. He stayed next to Chriscelia and tried to take her hand while Dr. Elway checked her progress.

"Don't touch me," she growled at him. "You're never touching me again. You _got_ that?"

Spencer opened his mouth, then shut it because Chriscelia glared at him like he'd kicked a homeless puppy. He decided to look at Dr. Elway instead.

"You're nearly there, Chriscelia. Spencer, help her with her breathing."

Spencer looked like he wasn't sure how to approach his angry wife, but he decided now wasn't the time to run away.

A long period of painful contractions that came rapidly with barely enough time for Chriscelia to recover finally led to Dr. Elway telling them it was time to start pushing.

"When you have your next contraction, let me know if you feel an uncontrollable urge to push. Spencer, help her out with counter-resistance when she pushes."

"Yes, ma'am."

Chriscelia yelled and sat up. "I need to push."

Spencer slid in sideways behind her and held on as she pushed. He felt the muscles in her upper body go rock hard while she pushed and cried out at the same time. The pain in her voice almost brought him to tears.

Chriscelia slumped back, and he looked down at her while brushing her bangs from her face. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her cheeks were very pink. "Hi," he said.

"Hi yourself," she raged, then cried out again when another contraction hit. She pushed, then slumped back again. "Breathe," instructed Dr. Elway. "Relax and breathe."

Chriscelia breathed just as they'd learned in childbirth class. Spencer breathed with her until he felt light-headed then he decided to breathe normally.

Chriscelia pushed again, and her entire body trembled with the effort. He held tight to her and began to realize that she had a strength that staggered him and he experienced a wave of love, unlike anything he'd ever felt with her.

"The head and one shoulder are out, Chriscelia," said Dr. Elway. "One more push."

"I can't, Spencer," Chriscelia said faintly.

Spencer took in her soaked and mussed hair; her pain filled eyes and her face, which looked like ripe cherries. "You can do it, Chriscelia. You're the strongest person I know. Our daughter needs you."

Chriscelia nodded and pushed. She wailed so loudly that Spencer thought she might hurt her vocal cords, but then it was over, and Dr. Elway said happily. "Relax and breath, your little girl, is here."

Seconds later they heard her cry, and the nurse laid her on Chriscelia's chest. "Oh," Chriscelia began to sob, "She's beautiful."

"The most beautiful baby in the world," Spencer said as tears flowed down and soaked into his face mask. "You did it, Celia. You're amazing."

"Spencer," she looked at him with rapturous eyes. "She looks like you."

"Have to take her for just a minute," said the nurse. "We'll get her cleaned up and do a couple of quick tests."

"Oh," Spencer said, and pain stabbed him to the core when they took her away even though he knew it was necessary.

"Spencer?"

"They need to do an Apgar score, weigh and measure her. They'll clean her and then we'll see her."

Several minutes passed as Dr. Elway delivered the placenta and placed it in a specimen bucket for later testing. Then, the nurse said, "Dr. Elway, she scored ten. She weighs seven pounds ten ounces, and she's twenty-one inches long."

The nurse brought the baby to her parents and placed her first in Spencer's arms. He looked down at her wrapped tightly in a pink receiving blanket with a white cap on her head. "Oh, she's even more beautiful now."

"She looks like you," Chriscelia said with wonder as he laid the baby on her arms. "She has your hands, and your mouth."

"I think she looks like you," Spencer said.

"No, definitely like you," Chriscelia argued.

"You can argue later. We need to take care of Chriscelia and get you into a room." Dr. Elway said.

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Two hours later, the clock read just after eight in the evening. The nurses had bathed Chriscelia and washed her hair. She wore a hospital gown, thick socks, and a robe. She sat up in the hospital bed and observed Spencer. They were in a private room at the Women's Center, and her husband was taking full advantage of the recliner chair near her bed. He currently held his daughter in his arms and wouldn't stop staring at her.

"I can't believe how beautiful she is," he said for the fifth time.

"I can, she looks like you," Chriscelia repeated. "Look at her hair. It's wavy, and it's the same color."

Spencer finally looked up at her. "I think she's too young to have recognizable features inherited from family. I think you're dreaming."

"Nope," Chriscelia said contentedly. "I'm sure."

At that moment, someone rapped on the door, and then a familiar face appeared around it. "Hi, guys."

"Penelope," Chriscelia enthused, and then smiled as if she'd just won the lottery when Pam and Rebecca followed Garcia into the room. "We met downstairs."

Garcia carried a flower arrangement that looked to Reid like it came from a florist instead of the hospital gift shop. The vase was shaped like Roman vessel he'd once seen in a museum, with curved handles on the sides. It was painted pink, and it had animals stenciled on it. He saw a giraffe, a lion, and an elephant. The flowers were pure white rosebuds and baby's breath.

"Thank you, Penelope. They're lovely."

"Hi," Pam greeted her after Garcia hugged her. "You look radiant."

"I look like I just pushed something the size of a watermelon out of an opening the size of an orange."

"Ouch," Pam said, and they laughed. "Here's something for the baby."

She stood a pink teddy bear on the nightstand, and they all cooed over it until Rebecca hugged her and handed her a gift bag. "Something for the mother." Inside, Chriscelia found bath oil, massage oil, and a gift certificate to a day spa. "To be used when you feel up to it, or if you feel overwhelmed."

"Thank you, Rebecca," Chriscelia said.

"I know you've called everyone," Garcia said. "I'm here as the representative of the group. They caught a case and will be in Tucson for a few days."

"You should be helping them," Spencer scolded.

"They'll be all right for an hour," Garcia said. "I had to see the newest member of the Junior BAU."

"Garcia," Reid said, exasperatedly.

"I just mean that you had the first girl among the offspring of the BAU."

"What about Joy," Spencer wondered.

"Joy is amazing, but she's grown up. I can't spoil her like I can this little one."

"What's her name?" Rebecca asked impatiently.

"We haven't quite decided. We'll let you know soon."

"Alright, but you better hurry because I want to know my god daughter's handle." Said Pam.

"Pam," Chriscelia scolded. "We're not telling you until we have everyone together."

"So, you have decided," Garcia asked, excitedly.

"Yes, and as Chriscelia said, we'll announce it when everyone's together."

"When will that be," Rebecca complained. "We've been waiting for nine months."

"Rebecca," Chriscelia said. " _Please._ "

"You're right, I'm sorry."

"Me too," chorused Pam and Garcia, then they laughed. "Anyway, I thought you'd like to know," said Garcia. "Tara won the baby pool."

"Told you," Spencer said to his wife. "Remember our bet."

Chriscelia narrowed her eyes at her husband, who gave their baby to an excited Rebecca.

"I haven't forgotten. It's going to be awhile. I just had a baby."

"I can wait."

"You bet on the outcome of the office baby pool," Pam asked, laughing.

"Yeah, why not."

"No reason, I'm just surprised that Chriscelia would bet against you, Spencer."

"I tried to tell her," he said. "She didn't listen."

"You're hilarious, Spencer."

Pam laughed as they eyed each other. There was no way Chriscelia could stay mad at Spencer. He was much too cute and sweet. She sighed and took the baby from Rebecca. "Oh, you are adorable."

"She is beautiful," Spencer said with pride.

"She's going to break hearts."

Spencer frowned, and Chriscelia giggled. "He thinks he can lock her up at thirteen until she's thirty."

"Yeah, like that will work," Garcia said.

"I don't want her to get hurt," Spencer said.

Garcia took the baby from Pam. "This little one will have so many protectors; she won't know what to do. Between all her uncles from the BAU and Jack, Michael, Hank, and Henry, she won't be able to date anyone that's remotely shady."

"That's a comfort," Spencer said irritably.

"And," Garcia went on, "You _know_ I'll find out everything there is to know about _any_ guy that hangs around."

"That is a relief," Chriscelia said, and finally, Spencer smiled.

The baby woke and began to fuss. Garcia, Pam, and Rebecca said goodbye when Chriscelia said she needed to feed her.

"We do have amazing friends and family," she said as she encouraged the newborn to latch on and feed.

"Yes, we do," Spencer said as he touched the baby's cheek. "As much as I care for them, I love you and our little girl even more."

"You better," Chriscelia said and let Spencer kiss her. "Hm, that's nice."

Spencer sat back in his recliner chair and in the middle of watching Chriscelia feed the baby, he fell asleep and into dreams of a new life with his family.

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Spencer entered the nursery and found Chriscelia in her rocker glider with their three-day-old daughter in her arms. "Hey," he said quietly.

"Hi," she said and smiled. "I just fed her, and I think she's asleep."

"Good," he said as she stood carefully, went to the crib and laid her in it. "I want to talk to you for a minute."

Chriscelia picked up the baby monitor and followed him into the Great Room. "We need to give her a name."

Chriscelia sighed. "I know, and I think I have something to suggest for her middle name."

"What is it?"

"I was thinking about Nicole."

"Okay, it's the feminine version of Nicholas, and it means, the victory of the people."

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, but why did you choose it?"

"I wanted a name that begins with an "n" because of Dr. Chatsworth. I don't know what I would've done without him. I think I would've completely panicked. He was so nice, Spencer."

"I think it's a great idea."

"What do you think we should choose for her first name."

"I think it should be Gwendolyn. We can call her Gwen."

Chriscelia thought for a minute. "Okay, I like it, but why did you pick it?"

"It's the feminine form of Gwendolen, and its possible meaning is "white ring," but I chose it because there was Queen Gwendolyn in the eleventh century BC. She was the first Queen Regent of the Britons, and she kicked butt. She defeated her ex-husband in battle and took his throne. She reigned peacefully for fifteen years, then gave up the throne to her son. I wanted to honor all the strong women in our baby's life."

"I think it's inspiring, Spencer. I can't wait to tell everyone."

"Me too," he said and hugged her tight. "I love you, Mrs. Reid."

"I love you too. Now, I think we should take a nap while Gwen is sleeping. The doctor said for me to try and sleep when she sleeps."

"Good idea," Spencer said and led her back to their bedroom.

He kicked off his shoes and lay down with her. They were asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow. The baby monitor on the night table relayed little coos Gwen made in her sleep, and the house enfolded them into its happy interior for an hour of blissful rest.


	45. Chapter 45

**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

 ** _A/n this is the last chapter. Thank you all for your support of this story. I hope you enjoy the end._**

Spencer lifted little Gwendolyn from her crib and carried her to the changing table. Gwen squealed and squirmed in his arms, her little face scarlet from upset. She kicked her legs and wailed as Spencer laid her on the table and began to open the snaps on her onesie.

"Don't cry, my princess. Daddy will change you, and then you'll feel much better.

Gwen shook her head back and forth as though in denial with her father's opinion. Spencer, on the other hand, felt confident enough because, in the last five days of Gwen's life, he'd changed many diapers. Still, he sometimes wished for latex gloves and a gas mask.

He carefully opened the diaper and his face twisted at the sight of what Chriscelia liked to call, "Special Delivery," changes. He scrunched up his nose and got to work. In no time, and despite Gwen's wailing, he cleaned her, added a bit of baby powder, and fastened on a new diaper. As soon as he had the onesie snapped up and her blanket wrapped around her small body, she stopped crying.

"There," Spencer said as he tossed away the dirty diaper and took Gwen to her crib. "All better."

Spencer left long enough to wash his hands thoroughly; then he returned to the cradle. "Your mommy says the team will be here soon. They want to know your name, and we're going to introduce you to your new godmother and godfather. You're going to love them."

Spencer picked her up and took her into the Great Room where Chriscelia was tidying the coffee table.

"Hey, babe. How are you feeling?"

Chriscelia looked up, then she gazed out into the summer sunshine and smiled. "I'm great. I know you worry about my doing the chores, but the exercise improves my energy."

"Then I think you should do as much as you feel up to," Spencer said. "I like seeing you happy."

"I _am_ happy," Chriscelia said as she watched Spencer lay Gwen in her new swing. He started it rocking, and a happy little tune played as it rocked. "I know that all my fears about her coming were groundless."

"It's only been five days," Spencer said. "What about the terrible twos?"

Chriscelia smacked him on the shoulder. "Oh you, let's not borrow trouble."

They sat in contented silence for a few minutes, then Chriscelia stood and stretched. "I need to get changed for the gathering."

"All right, I'll watch Gwen."

Chriscelia took in Spencer, who wore a purple dress shirt with the arms rolled up at the elbows. He'd left off the tie, but wore light grey slacks and his blue converse shoes. She smiled, and he said. "What?"

"Nothing, I'm just proud of my handsome husband." She reached down and pushed back an errant lock of hair from his face.

"Go," he said with a smile. "The others will be here soon."

CMCMCMCMCM

Chriscelia and Spencer surveyed the group around them. Hotch held Gwen and sat on the sofa with Jack, Henry, and Michael.

"She's pretty," Jack observed.

"Yes, she is," Chriscelia agreed.

"She looks like you," Hotch said to Spencer, who shook his head. "I think she looks more like Chriscelia."

"She's five days old," Hotch said. "She has time."

"She has her father's eyes," Rebecca said, and the others nodded.

"We're all here," Tara said as she took a chair next to JJ and Will. "When are you going to tell us her name?"

"I thought we'd have something to eat first and –"Spencer began.

"No," said everyone in the room at the same time."

Chriscelia laughed and gestured to Spencer. "Go ahead."

"Her name is Gwendolyn Nicole Reid."

Everyone looked at each other then began to pepper Spencer with questions regarding how they chose the name.

"I think it's great that you chose a name to honor that doctor in the supermarket," Luke said.

"He saved me from utter panic and terror," Chriscelia.

"I like Gwendolyn," said Morgan. "It fits her," he said as he took the baby from Hotch.

"I think it's perfect," Emily said.

"Okay, now are you going to tell us," Garcia begged.

"All right," Chriscelia took Spencer's hand. "We decided to ask Morgan to be her godfather. We spoke to him last night, and he's agreed."

Morgan smiled down at Gwen, who slept as though nothing important might be happening in her young life. He caressed her cheek and kissed her forehead. "Of course, I said yes, she's amazing, and I'm honored, pretty boy."

They all grinned at the response and the general uproar of surrounding the choice took several minutes to quiet. Spencer looked at Chriscelia again, and she squeezed his hand.

"We thought about the choice of godmother for months. We argued and discussed and finally decided to ask Rebecca."

Rebecca, who'd tried to keep back a smile since they'd called and asked her the previous night, broke out into nervous laughter.

Spencer surveyed his guests, hoping that he hadn't angered his female friends, but no one looked the least upset.

"Well, I think I speak for all of us when I say we're disappointed, but you made the right choice," Tara said.

The others nodded in agreement. "Rebecca's a great choice. She's smart, intelligent, strong, and funny. She has all the qualities we want to give our little girl, including her optimism and sense of fun."

"I think this deserves a toast," said Dave.

The adults, except for Chriscelia and Spencer had champagne. The kids and Gwen's parents held glasses of sparkling cider.

"To Chriscelia and Spencer, may they navigate the waters of parenting with few mistakes and many joys."

They drank to his toast and then to Hotch who said. "To the godparents, who have the enviable job of spoiling, and mentoring the child of two amazing people."

"Thanks, Hotch," Chriscelia and Spencer said together after they drank the toast.

"Now," JJ said. "I want to hold her."

Morgan passed over the baby just as she woke and looked up at JJ. "Chriscelia is right; she looks like you Spence. She has your eyes."

Spencer shrugged and decided to give up the argument. It didn't matter who Gwen resembled because he loved her, and nothing would ever change that for him.

CMCMCMCMCM

"Celia, have you seen my book on – " Spencer stopped behind the sofa where Chriscelia sat with baby Gwendolyn lying next to her. Two months had passed since the birth of his daughter, and she grew more beautiful and alert every day.

Chriscelia perched with her back to one arm of the sofa and Spencer saw that little Gwen looked up at her mother and cooed. Gwen kicked her little legs and giggled. The sound made his heart trip with happiness. It was the sound of innocence and joy.

"Once upon a time lived a little girl name, Gwendolyn Nicole Reid," Chriscelia said as she played with Gwen's little feet.

Spencer stood quietly watching them together with a grin on his face, and his arms crossed over his chest.

"Gwen was the prettiest baby in the world, and she loved her mama and daddy very much. Gwen had a secret that only her daddy Spencer knew."

Spencer's ears pricked up. What secret?"

"Gwen knew how to do real magic, just like a fairy godmother in long-ago make-believe land."

Gwen laughed and waved her little arms as her eyes, the very shape and color of Spencer's chocolate orbs, twinkled with delight at the sound of her mother's voice.

"Yes," Chriscelia said, and she bent forward to kiss Gwen's little forehead. "Spencer loved magic. He liked to do tricks for his friends and family to make them smile."

Gwen wiggled and giggled and kicked her legs enthusiastically. Spencer moved closer but didn't interrupt Chriscelia's story.

"One day, Spencer was very sad because he missed his friends at his old job. He liked his new job as a teacher, but it was hard for him to forget all the people that loved him. When he came home from work every day, he played with little Gwen. She helped him to forget his pain, and she helped him to know that his family and friends love him very much, even if he can't see them every day."

Gwen chattered loudly and tried to eat her small fist at the same time. Chriscelia wiped away a bit of drool from her little face and smoothed her fingers through Gwen's wavy golden-brown hair.

"You're my special angel. Mama loves you so much. You make daddy smile, and that's real magic," Chriscelia said.

"You can do real magic, too," Spencer said.

Chriscelia jolted a bit and looked up as Spencer moved into her line of vision. "Hey baby," he said and lifted Gwen into his arms. "I love you, baby."

"She loves you, Spencer, more than you realize. We both love you."

Spencer slid over to her and kissed her as Gwen tried to put one of his long fingers in her mouth. "I meant what I said. You know the magic of love, Celia."

She hugged him, then moved back when Gwen squirmed between them. "Sorry, my angel. Didn't mean to squash you."

Gwen giggled up at her parents and cooed softly. In a minute, she slept soundly in her father's arms. "She's beautiful," Spencer breathed.

"She is," Chriscelia agreed. "I'm glad she looks like her daddy."

"I'm not sure that's a good thing," Spencer said. "I'm glad she has your nose and your ears."

"She has your eyes, and hair, and hands," Chriscelia reminded him. "She's going to be quite a heartbreaker."

"Don't say that," Spencer shuddered. "I don't want to think about boys, yet."

Chriscelia laughed. "Yes, I know. You want to lock her up when she's thirteen."

Spencer sighed. "All right, bad idea. I want to keep her tiny and innocent, just as she is."

"I do too, but you know she's going to grow up one day, whether we like it or not."

Spencer sighed and looked down at his baby girl. "I know, but I wish I could keep her happy and safe all the time."

"Spencer, you and I know better than most people that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger. We're the people we are because of our challenges."

Spencer nodded. "I know, but sometimes I wish my life had been easier before I met you."

"So do I, but we can't change it. We have each other, and we have Gwen."

"When did you become such a happy optimist?" Spencer teased as he played with Gwen's fingers.

"When I decided it was time for a change of attitude. I know you won't believe it, but in a way, I'm glad Lindsey tried to hurt us. She taught me that life is short. It's time to be happy and make others' lives better whenever we can."

"I agree," Spencer said in soft tones, as Gwen began to fall asleep in his arms.

They watched their little girl enter dreamland, and Chriscelia hoped that all her dreams might be pleasant and full of love.

"I love you," Spencer said and kissed Chriscelia.

"I love both of you," she responded.

Spencer took Gwen to her swing, then joined Chriscelia on the sofa. He looked over at the sleeping baby and thought that Chriscelia had a point. He couldn't keep her completely from the dangers and stresses of life. Someday she'd grow into a woman, and she'd have an independent life. He hoped he and Chriscelia had the wisdom to guide her so that when she stepped into the world, she'd do so with confidence and valor.

THE END


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